What Does It Mean To Love
by at8c
Summary: Sequel to What Does It Mean To Trust! What Does it Mean to Love? What does it mean when you love someone? What are you willing to give? What are you not willing to let them give?...Stephanie and Ranger story, not nice to Morelli or Helen! Definitely a BABE all the way...so Cupcakes beware.
1. Chapter 1

_The sequel to What Does it Mean to Trust. I apologize to those who have been waiting for this but life doesn't always cooperate with our wishes. My life isn't what's important here but I will just say that life isn't predictable; it gets busy, and sometimes crazy. However, this story has never been far from my mind or my heart. I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar! Finally my fans whom have sent me private messages, left reviews you make my day! Well enough for me on with the story! I hope you all enjoy, Amanda _

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

**RPOV**

Looking out over the water, I think of her; my Babe: Stephanie. My thoughts were running wild about how I wanted to hold her, how I wanted her in my arms. How I wanted to bury my head in her brunette curls and engulf a big breath of her scent. I shut my eyes, cutting off the beautiful view of night across the beach and ocean, just to see her and remember her addictive smell.

I opened my eyes, inhaling a deep breath of ocean, sand, and even a lingering smell of suntan lotions from the beach goers of the daytime.

The ocean was calm, the moon full and huge in the sky, glistening across the water adding a blue hue to everything it touched. I wondered if she could see this, if she could see what I was looking at right this moment. I wondered if we were both on some level experiencing the view together even though she wasn't in my arms. This was her night, and she couldn't have ordered a more perfect night than what it was.

With one final look, I stepped back in the room off of the balcony, both reluctant and partially anxious to get on with the events of the evening. The night was warm, the breeze from the ocean inviting and comforting, not crisp and chilling. Not wanting to cut myself off from the night. I left the door open to allow the breeze to blow through the room.

Turning into the room, my eyes lingered on the large king bed in the bedroom. The breeze blowing in ruffled the sheers that hung from the large poster bed. I closed my eyes to cut off the view in my head of Stephanie lying across the bed. Before my thoughts could go any further, I forced my feet to carry me to the dresser across the room.

I looked at the coat hanging on the hook, it wasn't often I wore my Army dress uniform. I could count the number of times I'd worn it on both hands…, and none of them were good. I didn't want to remember wearing this coat, because in all cases, it was worn to mourn a show of respect and honor for a fallen brother. Part of me dreaded pulling on the jacket, but I put those feelings aside and pulled the jacket on.

I tugged at the collar of my shirt as I pulled the jacket into place, hooked the buttons and finally pulled it down in the back and front so the jacket hung the way it was meant. I pinned on the medals of designations, rank, and special recognitions on the chest and lapel of the jacket. All of the medals had been polished so that they would all pass any inspection by the strictest drill sergeants on the planet. Nothing short of that would be acceptable for tonight. I looked in the mirror and I couldn't help but think about how differently my life could have been.

I couldn't help but think about the path my life was on and how, in some ways, the old way was easier than my life is now. I would never regret the changes, though; I would do nothing but be thankful for every single moment of them. Even now, even if I found my life more complicated and harder in some ways, I had experienced more love and happiness that I had ever expected to find.

However, before love, before allowing myself to love and opening myself up to the possibility of love, my life was simpler. It was a simple life, but it was a lifeless life. One of action, cold and closed off, not the way it was now, not one where there was family, love, life and happiness. With that love and openness also came fear and hurt, both of which I had never hoped to know the way I had come to. Pain that extended beyond the physical pain and in some way hurt more than any physical pain could ever.

Prior to bringing Stephanie into my life, there was no fear. I won't say I was never afraid, but fear wasn't something I experienced often. On missions, things would happen that would spike my adrenaline from fear, but I had built in responses for that- responses that were almost spontaneous and had come with years of training, skill, and experience.

When Stephanie walked into my life, I learned what true fear was. The fear that spiked in me when she was in trouble, kidnapped, or when her car would explode was something I had never experienced. I snapped another medal on my coat, my mind still thinking about her, and I couldn't keep the smile from my lips, wondering what she would think if she could see me now. I heard a knock at the door.

I quickly snapped the last pin in place. I then made my way out of the bedroom suite, closing the door behind me. My lifelong friend and brother was waiting on the other side of the door.

"Yo," I said, more out of habit rather than being polite or any other reasons for warranting a welcome at the moment.

"Yo man, how are you holding up?" he asked me and I looked at him, raising my eyebrow, questioning his logic in asking me such a question. I wanted to ask how the fuck you think I am holding up, but I would never allow myself to say that. He very well fucking knew how I was. I didn't need to spell it out for him. He already knew.

"Okay man, I get it," he said. I nodded, looking at him in a way that was foretelling of exactly how I was.

Tonight was a night that I never in my life ever thought I would witness. It was a night that I would have bet good money would never happen, yet it was. My emotions, while well hidden from all who would look at me, were there fighting me, fighting for release, struggling to wear down my control. Tonight, like countless other nights, they wouldn't win; at least not yet.

My emotions used to never win, but having met Stephanie and pulled her into my life ended that. There were times when emotions won. There were times when what I did was purely emotional. In some of those cases it was good, but in some it was not.

I looked at Tank dressed in his Army dress uniform and thought that the time I had seen him in his dress blues was more infrequent than I. Tank wasn't one to mince words or bullshit. He wore his dress blues if he felt it was warranted, not just because the occasion called for it. Tonight, he clearly felt it was warranted as I looked across his chest to see his medals, his badges of rank, and his medals of accommodations were almost as prolific as those on my own chest.

We were soldiers and we were damn fine soldiers.

There was another knock at the door. I knew on the other side of the door would be the remainder of the core team and a few others who were close to Stephanie. I turned toward the door as Tank opened the door and I nodded as Bobby, Cal and Hector walked through the door.

Bobby, dressed in his Army blues with his medical medals proudly hanging on his chest, walked into the room. I took a moment to study each one. There was no doubting the fine medic Bobby was, one only needed to look at his medals to know. I took a deep breath.

Cal was dressed in his Navy dress uniform, his sword hanging from his side. Even though it was a dress sword, I knew it would be just as sharp and just as useful as any other weapon he carried. His tattoo even seemed to take a back seat tonight. My eyes met his and I nodded. I wasn't one to speak much, and tonight I was grateful for not having to speak needlessly just to carry on a conversation.

Hector was dressed in a tuxedo, one I knew he didn't own, yet it fit him as though it had been custom made. Inside, I felt the desire to smile. Looking across the men, all of us dressed in what we would consider our finest attire, I couldn't help but think of my Babe. What her thoughts would be, what would she think or say seeing us this way?

I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me as I once again felt the need within to get this night started. My arms ached to hold my Babe. My head hurt thinking of her not being here and my heart felt the void of her, standing in the room with what had become our family wasn't something I wanted to focus on.

When Hector shut the door I raised my eyebrow. Bobby shrugged before speaking up. "Man he isn't leaving her, neither of them are leaving her," he said and I nodded. I fully understood the desire to remain with her and I felt a surge of jealousy rush through my body that I had to wrestle with. I needed to control it, if I lost control now, there would be no more control left. I swallowed the jealousy that spiked through me and I nodded.

Lester and Slyder wouldn't leave her side; behind the jealousy, there was part of me that was glad that she wasn't alone. I never wanted her to ever be or feel alone. I closed my eyes, turning my head, once again finding myself battling for control over emotions that threatened to swallow me whole.

Tank looked at his watch, I think more to have something to do rather than actually needing to know the time, but when he looked up. "You ready?"

I looked across the group and nodded, unable to keep my lip from twitching at the thought of what she would think seeing us now.

We made our way to the door and I stepped back allowing everyone to go out before me as we made our way out of the room and onto the elevator. The elevator carried us down to the lobby floor. For holding five rather large men, the elevator was quiet, and for that I was thankful. We made our way through the lobby and down the walkway to the back of the hotel that opened to the beach. Walking out, I took in the salty sea breeze, the smell of the ocean now mixed with the various flowers that lined the walkway down to the beach.

I was grateful for the thin bamboo carpeting that had been placed across the sand, not that it would have stopped me had it not been there. I have had sand in my shoes before and without the walkway, I would have had sand in them again, but in no way would sand prevent me from walking to my destination tonight. Nothing would stop me. I would be there waiting.

As I made it closer to my destination, I couldn't help but take in the faces of every Rangeman as I passed. They were dressed in their dress uniforms or tuxedos, and it spoke volumes as to what she meant to everyone of them. They all dressed to honor her.

The moon was so bright that it lit the beach to the point that I could make out every face as I passed. No additional lighting was necessary. I took a moment to look out over the ocean, the moon glistening across it, and felt the breeze blow across my face. This was definitely a night ordered by none other than my Babe, and like her, it was perfect.

The priest was standing just beyond me, ready to start the service. Anxiety once again welled up inside me as I battled the desire to get to the point that I could once again see my Babe. I looked to my left and Tank was standing there beside me, giving me his silent support, and I was grateful to feel him beside me.

My life had changed in a way that I would never have guessed I was even capable of changing. They say that for big changes, and often abrupt changes, you never forget the moment they happen. They are usually the hardest to accept and deal with in one's life, and more often than not, they tend to be not so happy moments.

For me, I know the exact moment when I saw her walk in that diner. The look on her face, the look in her eyes that said 'I am doing it with or without your help'. It was that look that made my decision to help her. It was her tenacity and her stubbornness that hooked me and her soft, kind heart and her loyalty and belief in me that held me and made me forever hers. Had she never returned my love, had she rejected my life, it wouldn't have mattered. I would have never left hers, and I would have and will forever love her; only her. For me, this change came with both happy and not so happy moments all rolled into one.

I look back over the ocean, once again thinking about the night, about how I felt comfortable in the darkness of the night. It was where I belonged- in the shadows. Yet Stephanie had changed all of that, she had pulled me into the light and so here I stand under the moon's spotlight as though the rays of the moon knew me, knew my heart, and knew my deepest desires, wishes, and dreams. Opening me in a way that showed every man standing here everything there was to know of me; or at least the most important thing to know. My love for one woman: Stephanie.

A gust of salt air whisked by me, caressing my neck like that of a long lost lover. My eyes shut at the thought as I bask in the too brief caress. My body ached to hold her. My fingers twitched to touch her. My body and mind were anxious to see her yet tense for what was to come. Another single moment when your whole life changes.

The lull of the water lapping up on the beach played a beat that would inspire lovers to hold each other as if it were the first or perhaps the last time. With each repetition of the beat, my arms ached more to have my Babe in my arms. To feel her body soft yet firm in my arms is a feeling that I would never get enough.

I heard the doors to the hotel and before I could see who was making their way out the door, I knew. I briefly shut my eyes to once again gain control of the feelings that were running through me. I wanted to run down and knock Lester and Slyder away from her, but I controlled myself and wait, just starring at the back of the hotel. Waiting impatiently until the moment they would come into view.

My feet move without directive and I stop myself as I feel Tank's hand on my arm. My instinct was to shrug him off and run forward toward her, but I once again controlled my movements and waited. When my eyes locked onto her, I felt as if my knees weren't going to hold me up. I felt as if I would crash to the ground as emotions hit me like a wave pounding onto the beach.

My love for her was the strongest, but my need for her was almost overwhelming. My eyes guided over her, she was beautiful. She was radiant. She stood there at the end of the aisle with Slyder, her partner, on one side. Lester, her best friend, was on the other, and yet her eyes were staring only at me. Her eyes were locked on me as mine were on her. When she smiled at me, my heart began to beat against my chest as if it were going to burst through my ribs.

My throat closed, my legs felt as though they had been weighted down and couldn't move. Had Tank touched me at the moment I would have fallen over, stiff. I was blown away by her beauty, completely frozen in shock; left only with the ability to stare at her. She was the only other thing in the world at the moment; everything else forgotten, not seen.

When she was within three steps of me, my feet broke free and I met her. I didn't wait for the priest to pronounce us anything, I just pulled her into my arms, I held her against me and my lips found hers. I shrugged off the protests of her self-professed men of honor beside her. I tended to believe them more along the lines of guard dogs as they had kept us apart using excuses of old wives tales. They had insisted, demanded even, that we not see each other until this very moment. At the time, I wanted to pound them both into the ground but having felt what I just felt I was glad we had waited, though I wouldn't admit it to them.

"Aren't you supposed to wait…" she started to say when I pulled back and stared into her eyes, but she was unable to finish her sentence when her eyes focused on me. She had felt the same need, desire, hunger, and love for me that I had felt for her. I could see it in the depths of her eyes.

"Man, you were supposed to wait until the priest told you to kiss her. You know after she is your wife, not before," Lester said, the irritation in his voice clear. He was telling me I had screwed up, messed up our wedding. Lester had singly dedicated himself the wedding planner and the go to guy for everything wedding etiquette. It was our wedding and I liked this plan much better. Besides, my plan had my Babe in my arms faster, so it had to be better.

"Okay, Ranger, let her go so we can proceed, you do want to marry her right?" Slyder asked, his voice carried less irritation but it was still there, underlying the calm voice carrying the question that he knew would get the desired reaction from me.

Looking in her eyes, I asked, "you ready for this?" She smiled at me and what she said was music to my ears.

"I have been ready for this for what seems like forever."

I couldn't help the smile that broke across my face or my reply. "Babe."

I forcefully made myself release her and stepped back towards Tank and the priest, but my eyes never left her. Stephanie and her guard dogs made the final few steps forward, stopping in front of the priest and beside me.

Both Slyder and Lester kissed her cheek as they took their place to her left. Lester was standing closest to her and Slyder was beside him.

I looked at Lester and Slyder, and I couldn't help but acknowledge what this moment meant for them, what she meant to them. What we had all been through in the past several months. I found myself once again thanking a God that I wasn't a hundred percent sure of, but I had no doubts that without Him or Her, we would never be standing here tonight on this beautiful moonlit beach.

The moon's bright blue hued rays shining down on us blessed us and carried us into our new lives. Lives that would be forever changed by the events taking place now as well as lives that were forever changed by the events that had already taken place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: **

**LPOV**

I heard the shot. I felt her fall on top of me, her body felt almost limp, but I couldn't bring myself to rationalize why her body felt the way it had. I joked with her, telling her that I knew she wanted me but that she could have waited to get home.

I am not sure why I had chosen to say that, I could only claim stupidity and denial that I wasn't feeling what I was feeling as my only answer for why I had said such a stupid thing at the moment. I felt my pants growing sticky wet as I felt her body go limp on top of mine. My heart stopped for a brief second until my mind kicked in gear as the hard truth of what had happened settled in around me allowing my mind to accept the cold, hard facts. Beautiful had been shot.

I quickly grabbed her and flipped her, moving from being trapped under her to easily holding her and lying her on her back on the concrete. I cursed at the fact that she was lying on the dirty fucking sidewalk. Slyder was beside me on his knees, beside her, reaching for her. I knew he had a little training like we all did when it came to saving a life on the battlefield. While I probably had more than him, none of us had Bobby's training. He was one of the best of the best and I prayed that he would get to us fast. I knew panic buttons had been set off, and I knew they were on their way, I only prayed they would get to us in time.

Looking at her, I feared time had already run out, so I did the only thing I knew and started compressions on her chest. I saw the blood draining out with each press of my hands against her chest and I knew pressure needed to be applied. Slyder's hand fell into place as though the thoughts went through my mind to his. Fuck. I hadn't done CPR in a long time and I only hoped, that if I managed to keep her alive until Bobby got there, I wouldn't break her ribs or sternum in trying to save her life.

I couldn't think about losing her. I felt my eyes burn at the thought and, for a brief moment, I was taken aback. Not the fact that I would cry for her, it was more the fact that I felt like crying that caught me off guard. I couldn't remember the last time I had actually cried. Possibly during the first few days of basic training, but even then, I never remember actually crying. I remember being pushed to the brink of what I thought I could take. I remember thinking I wasn't strong enough, good enough, or having what it took to be capable of doing what I had signed on to do. However, I never actually cried over it.

The drill sergeants had beaten those thoughts out of me to the point that it was no longer a question if I was tough enough or capable. They had made me capable and tough enough to withstand anything thrown my way; except for this. I wasn't capable of losing her. I wasn't strong enough to survive losing her. I wasn't good enough for her to give her life for mine.

Those thoughts brought a rage that I had never felt pouring through my veins. She had sacrificed her life for me, why? Why in the fuck would she sacrifice her life for mine? I know I should have felt something different. But at that moment, I wasn't capable of feeling anything different. I was mad. I was full of rage. I wanted to beat something. I wanted to crush something in my hands. I wanted something or someone to feel the pain that was washing through me, exactly as I was feeling it. She had protected me at the expense of what was looking to be her life. She had yet to breathe on her own. I stopped compressions only to slightly lift her chin angling her head back to clear her airway. Holding her nose, I blew in her mouth three breaths before I returned to compressions.

The rage I felt at her actions, for what she had done, did not stop my motions to save her life. If anything, they fueled my efforts to keep her alive. Typically, giving CPR is exhausting to the person giving CPR and they are only able to maintain it for short periods of time before they are no longer effective. In my case, I felt I could do this all day long. My muscles felt strong, my body raging with adrenaline and a fire that burned hotter than flames of hell.

I remember looking up at the man who had shot at us and saw him lying on the sidewalk bleeding but moving. He was unable to get up on his own accord, and for that, I was very thankful. I couldn't help but think I would have someone to take my rage out on provided he didn't die before I was able to reach him. Right now, Beautiful was my priority and I wasn't leaving her. If she lived, then I would never leave her side.

There were times when I wondered if I would continue to be close to her and watch her and Ranger love each other the way that they clearly did. It hurt my heart in a way I had never felt. I loved her with every fiber of my body, yet she loved another. I would never attempt to become between them, I loved my cousin. I loved Beautiful more than my just having to have her for me. I wanted her happy and she was happy with him. Happier than she would be with anyone else, including me, as they were true soul mates if a thing ever existed.

I could only hope that a soul mate existed for me, if indeed they did exist, and that I would be so lucky as to find her before I was an old man with a wrinkled ass. If she survived this, I would never be able to leave her. I blew my breath into her body, willing it to fill her lungs and help her, maintain and sustain her, until someone could reach us.

Why had she jumped in front of me? Why had she put herself in harm's way? She was behind me. I would have protected her. I would have gladly thrown my body over her, not have her throw her body over mine. I didn't deserve it. My life wasn't a life that should have been saved.

I was a killer; I was a person with a darkened blackened soul for whom killing someone meant nothing to me if I felt that person deserved death. I had little to no respect for life if the person led an evil life. I didn't want to see innocent people killed as I wasn't a psycho monster but killing wasn't something I felt guilt over. There was no regard to the fact that they had family who loved them regardless of what evil they represented. There was no consideration for the life I took or regret for what I was capable of.

Beautiful wasn't like me. She saw the good in people, all people. I wasn't one who looked for the good. It never registered with me. Yet she was willing to swap her life for mine. With every thought of what she had done for me came a boiling rage as to why. Grateful was something I was incapable of feeling right now. I wasn't grateful for the fact that she was lying on the cold fucking concrete of the sidewalk bleeding out because she had saved me from taking the bullet. I would gladly take the fucking bullet right in the head, or any other organ or body part to not be here pressing on her chest this very fucking moment. I wasn't happy for the fact that I was breathing because she wasn't. I wasn't thankful for the fact that my blood remained in my body, running swiftly, keeping my muscles strong because it wasn't in her body.

Her blood was pooling between my fingers, coating my hands as I held my hands to her chest pressing up and down in an attempt to just keep her fucking heart beating to push the little blood that remained in her body to her brain and organs. Her heart wasn't capable of pumping the blood on it's own.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to lift my head up toward heaven and curse God for this. I wanted to scream and roar my heartbreak while my mind was reeling from the painful thoughts of losing her.

What the fuck was I going to tell Ranger, my cousin, when he got here?

Ranger would be here any minute as he would have gotten the fact that her panic button was set off he would be racing to her. How the fuck was I going to look him in the eye and say that she jumped in front of the bullet? That she took the bullet that was meant to end my life and instead, it might have ended hers? How do you tell someone that? Especially someone who depended on you to keep the woman of his dreams, the love of his life, his soul mate safe?

I had failed her, I had failed him, I had failed me, and it was all because she had jumped in front of me before I had the chance to react and had taken the bullet with my name on it. Once again, rage boiled through me. I wanted to scream at her to wake the fuck up. I wanted to yell at her for what she had done and I wanted her to wake up and demand an apology for my anger and yelling at her because she had saved my life and I was acting like a spoiled rotten prick at the moment.

I heard tires squealing and I didn't bother to look up because I knew who was there. From the tires, I knew it was more than just Ranger. I heard car doors opening and slamming and boots beating hard against the street running our direction. Through it all, I never broke stride in the rhythm of my chest compressions. Thirty equal pumps then three breaths, it was the pattern that I had taken from the moment I flipped her. I knew the rule was two breaths to thirty compressions, but I added an extra one in hope it would give her something extra.

Slyder's hands never left her, his hands coated in her blood where he was trying his best to hold every possible ounce of blood within her body.

I didn't want to tell him it was a battle he was losing. I didn't want to think about it, but seeing the blood made my anger rage even more. I wanted to kick his ass for every single drop that he let slip through his fingers. Though I knew the blame wasn't with him, it was with me, no, it was with her since she had put herself between me and that bullet. A bullet I would have taken, I would have gladly taken, a bullet I wanted to take.

I heard the boots on the pavement halt and I knew they had reached the point where they could take in the picture before them. Beautiful lying still, motionless on the sidewalk, her blood spilling into our hands, my pumping her chest in hopes of sustaining her life until we could get her the help she needed.

I heard the protests of, no, not this, but I didn't have time to stop what I was doing to tell them to shut the fuck up and move their no good asses. If I couldn't scream out my protests, then they should not be allowed to scream theirs either.

I heard the boots kick back into gear and soon boots were all around me but my pumping and breathing for her didn't slow or stop. I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me backwards, but I jerked free. They weren't going to remove me. I wasn't leaving her. I wasn't allowing them to pull me away.

"Lester, man, you need to let me at her," I heard Bobby's strained voice and I wanted to protest, but when he touched my shoulder again I relented. I rocked back on my heels and stood, only stepping back enough to let him drop in front of me to care for her.

I couldn't look up. I couldn't look the guys in the eyes. One reason was because I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The other reason I couldn't face them was because of what had happened. How do I look them in the eye and tell them that she took the bullet that was meant for me? That she jumped in front of me to protect me and probably gave her life for it?

Rage and shame flowed through me as though I could feel my blood pumping the recriminations through my veins. I watched as Bobby worked and I knew he was calling out orders as those around me were moving doing what he asked, but my brain was incapable of actually processing what my ears heard. I was unable to focus on what was being said. My brain was numb, but my emotions sharp as razors slicing through me allowed the rage, fear and shame to flow through me like a swollen, angry river with the water threatening to spill over the banks.

Once again, the rage surged and I wanted someone to punch, I wanted someone to tear to pieces, I wanted to sink my fingers into someone and just obliterate them with my bare hands. Movement caught my eye and I found where I could focus all of my rage. I found the person whom I could literally reach into his chest and rip his heart out. No one would stop me. No one would give a fuck. My eyes locked on my target, and before I realized it, I had moved and was standing over him looking down at him.

I saw his face register fear and the monster within me smiled. It was the first moment that joy actually flooded my system. I could only imagine the feral look in my eyes and I relished in the fear that it caused in the person who was my sole focus.

It was as if the world dropped away and only he existed. I grabbed him, pulling him up in the air and I watched as pain shot through him and the monster within me once again rejoiced. I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me backwards away from the man and I fought against it, shrugging the hand off of my shoulder.

I slammed the guy against the concrete hoping to split him open, to crush his skull. The sickening crunch I heard told me I had at least done some damage. His eyes glazed over and then came back, focusing in fear on me. I shook his body to add to the damage I had caused and allowed the monster within me to smile and feel the moment of glee wash over me.

The monster within me felt like a kid at Christmas giddy over his toys. I felt the hands grab me again, stronger this time, and from the feel of his hands I knew it was Tank. After a moment, his words finally filtered into my brain, allowing me to understand what he was saying.

"Stop, we need information," his words registered with me and I paused my attack on the fucker before me. "We need to know his name," Tank said. I watched as I opened my hands and the man drop to the ground.

"What's your name?" I asked him, not expecting an answer. At his non responsive reply, I grabbed his head. Pulling on his ears, I yanked him up and was ready to slam him back down to the pavement when his mouth opened. I paused to give him time, but when nothing came, I once again threw him back down.

I stood up and placed my foot on the bullet entry in his abdomen and pressed with my foot. The screams that came from him were of something that sounded as though a wounded animal would make. I didn't give a fuck. It made the monster within me want to jump, laugh, and rejoice, and it caused my insides to feel light and gay.

He mumbled something, but my focus had changed as I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. They were moving Beautiful and I no longer had the time to fuck with the man screaming on the concrete. I stepped away from him.

I looked at the crowd of Rangeman who had gathered and I just yelled, "someone take this fucker and lock him up until we are able to deal with him. Keep him alive but provide no other assistance." My voice was loud, dark, and demanding, leaving no room for questions, or hesitation, in doing exactly what I wanted. Not complying with my demands wasn't an option for any of them. I quickly moved to Beautiful's side.

They quickly loaded her in the back of one of the SUVs with the seats down. Ranger and Bobby crawled in beside her. Ranger had taken over holding pressure on her wound while Bobby was working to keep her alive. I wanted to jump in and join them, but there was no room, and the last thing I wanted was to prevent them from having access to her because of room I took up, so I jumped in the front and pushed my way into the seat with Slyder.

We weren't comfortable by any means, but at this point, I didn't give a fuck, I was going to be in the vehicle with her if I had to cram my ass into the floor boards. I was thankful the hospital was a short drive away not because of how uncomfortable I was, but for Beautiful's sake.

I found it hard to meet any of the guy's eyes. The guilt of what happened was eating away at me, the guilt I felt for her taking the bullet that was meant for me was almost overwhelming when the anger subsided. The only thing that kept the guilt at bay was my anger and my fury over what had happened to her.

I closed my eyes, praying once again to a God that I wasn't sure even existed, not if this could happen, not if she could be harmed, or be taken from us. No good God would allow her not to exist in this world, not when he allowed monsters like us to live and breathe.

I got out and I wanted to be beside her. I wanted to be with her. I knew it was Ranger's place and I gave it to him. I watched as they laid her on the gurney that had met our SUV at the emergency room door. I watched as the nurses worked around her, doctors getting the briefing from Bobby. I watched as they started to push her into the hospital and I had to force myself to stand still and remain in my spot instead of running after her.

I closed my eyes again, praying she would be okay, praying that I would be able to once again see her eyes twinkling, her smiling and laughing at one of my jokes. My best friend, my sister, and truth be known, the only woman I ever truly loved was fighting for her life and it was my fault. It was her fault. It was that fucker's fault. I didn't know whose fault it was.

I felt guilty and yet I was mad as hell. I was mad at myself, at that fucking bastard and what made my heart clinch to the point that it hurt within my chest, was that I was mad at her.

I walked into the emergency room slowly as my limbs felt heavy and tired and it felt as if I had to force them to move. I was dreading every step towards my brothers, brothers whom I would have to look in the eye and acknowledge the fact that I was the reason our sister was fighting for her life. I closed my eyes, trying futilely to center myself. Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear the anxiety I was feeling of being in a room filled with my friends and family.

A group of men who wouldn't understand why I didn't fucking protect her, a group of men who would hate me if she didn't survive this, waited impatiently on me. Men whom would never be able to forgive me for allowing her to take a bullet that was meant for me wanted to know what had happened. I knew they would never forgive me because I would never forgive them if they had been in my shoes. Fuck, I would never forgive myself. I shut my eyes from the worst of all my thoughts, trying to ignore the sinking of my stomach as reality set in, and I feared that I would never be able to forgive her.


	3. Chapter 3

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds!_

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you make my day! _

**Chapter 3:**

**CalPOV**

Fuck! I have been repeating that over and over in my head. It seems to be my only thought past the fact that Stephanie, my Angel, is fighting for her life. When her panic button went off, we all responded. Why, I am not certain, only that we knew it was her. Maybe we all sensed that this time was _the_ time, it was the time that her luck had ran out.

The knot in my throat had stolen my voice, the pain in my chest spoke volumes to the fact that my breath had been taken and my heart felt as though it had stopped beating. I would gladly give her every ounce of my blood, my heart, whatever she needed. I would give it.

I remembered making it to the scene, but I am not sure I remember what happened after that. My heart stopped when I saw her lying on the side walk with Slyder and Lester working on her. I had one thought: it couldn't be her, not her. My next thought was fuck and my brain has been stuck in that pattern since. How the fuck am I going to function without her in my life? How in the fuck am I going to let her go? Somewhere deep inside I knew I wasn't the only one thinking these words, but I was unable to think about anyone else.

She was my sister, my Angel. She was there for me, she accepted me and the shit that made up my life without judgment. I scanned the room looking for Lester. I wasn't really sure when I had gotten to the hospital waiting room, but I knew I had been here twenty minutes. I knew it had been forty minutes since her panic button had gone off.

I wanted to know what the fuck happened. I understood that the man on the sidewalk who Zip and Zero had taken back to Rangeman with a bullet in his chest was the shooter. Why that fucker was still breathing I wasn't sure. I only wished that he would continue to breathe long enough for me to take his life and breath with it. I knew who would get the opportunity to take his life. I wanted it to be me, but I was okay with it being Ranger as long as it was one of us. As long as that fucker stopped breathing, I would be satisfied.

I once again heard my boots on the floor as I paced across the room and made my way back to where I had been standing. I looked back to the doors to see if anyone was stepping forward to tell us something. The not knowing is the worst, but the longer they stayed back there meant she was still hanging on and they were working to save her, so my emotions were torn between wanting to know and yet scared shitless that someone would walk through the door with news I didn't want to hear. I couldn't take her no longer being with us.

Heat bubbled through me at the thought and I scanned the room looking for someone to blame. I wasn't sure what the fuck had happened to Lester or Slyder, but I was determined to find out why the fuck they didn't protect her. They should have protected her, mother fuckers. They were fucking trained to protect her above everything else, including sacrificing their own lives if necessary.

What the fuck had happened that ended up with her being the one shot? My mind couldn't wrap itself around what event would have happened that ended with her getting shot and those two fuckers not having a mark on them. The more I thought about it, and tried to figure out how it happened, the madder I became. I wanted to find them and haul them down to the waiting room and beat them until they could explain it to me. Then beat them some more for failing to protect her. I wanted to beat them to the point that they would never again question if they would be able to protect her.

I scanned through the cloud of black, noting all of the heads hanging. I saw lips slightly moving, but no words were being said aloud. I knew they were praying, praying to God that she would pull through. I wanted to be a religious man, I did, but I just didn't have it in me right now. I didn't have the faith that I could just ask God to save her and she would be saved. That was for the true believers.

For as much as I wanted to say and actually believe that I believed in God, I would be lying if I did. I would be a hypocrite for even thinking of asking someone whom I had lost faith in a long time ago to save someone I loved. Even if He were real, He would have no reason for answering my wishes and prayers. My life had proven to me that there was no God, that there was no one watching out over or protecting all of us. If there were, then I wouldn't have had to walk through the hell I walked.

I wouldn't voice these thoughts aloud, but I damn sure wasn't going to sit around and pretend that I believed in shit I didn't. Anger boiled through me at these thoughts, the lies we are all fed with a higher power who is just standing by to save us, to keep us from walking through our nightmares, to protect us when shit goes wrong. Fuck that, reality had taught me there was no one looking out for us, there was no one who was going to protect us or keep us from having to walk through the real world, where nightmares and hell all come true.

One may argue you can't believe in hell without believing in heaven, but I say you can. It's easy to believe that hell exists when you have walked through it. However, golden gates, streets and homes for all, in a setting where everyone loves everyone, everyone is forever young, never sick and where there is peace, well, that's a little harder to believe. That is where fantasy comes in. It is nice to think it; it is nice to even believe it, but honestly, how realistic does it all sound? When you have lived my life and seen the shit I have seen, it is hard to believe that a place such as that exists anywhere and it definitely doesn't fucking exist in or on this world.

I have heard all the arguments on the subject. While I wasn't an active participant, because I don't tell people my true feelings on the subject, I still have heard them all. When you go to battle with men, you eventually know their true beliefs. It all comes out in those final moments, when there are either scared shitless or know they are dying. The true believers pray and beg for God to help them. In some cases, the men have made it in others they haven't I am not so sure how much God had to do with any of it though I am sure for them, depending on how it turned out it changed their minds.

I heard the soles of my boots hitting the floor as I once again moved across the room from one point to another only to return to the original starting point. I didn't bother looking at the clock because I knew it would only tell me that I had been here just a few minutes and I didn't need the reminder. I once again looked at the double doors, cussing that no one had come out to tell us shit while on the other hand having an urge to thank possibly God that they hadn't. Just as I was about to grab a chair and sling it across the room out of frustration, the doors opened and Lester walked through.

I started to go for him. I wanted to grab him by his fucking neck and hang him from the ceiling until he told me exactly what the fuck had happened. How the fuck he could have allowed her to get shot. When I looked at him, his downward cast eyes, the totally lost expression on his face, my feet glued themselves to the floor not allowing me to move.

I looked as his pants and hands; they were covered in her blood. Her blood was on his shirt and on his face where he had no doubt at some point placed his hands and smeared it. My reaction to seeing her blood had me feeling sick. I had seen how much blood was lost, but seeing it on him further reminded me of how much blood she had lost.

I felt the scream that wanted to burst loose but it lodged in my throat. I wanted to scream at him how could he, I wanted to yell at him and demand an answer, but just as my feet were frozen to the ground, my voice had lost all of its power. I suspected if I attempted to speak it would come out a squeak instead of my true voice.

I looked at him, my eyes unable to move away as I saw the tears in his eyes yet to fall and my mind started ranting fuck over and over again. Was he here to tell us she hadn't survived? Would it be him who was here to tell us? The one who failed to fucking protect her had to tell us that she hadn't made it? The flurry of questions going through my mind only caused anger to well up in me, but my body refused me the ability to express any of it. Something about looking at him and seeing the devastation on his face wouldn't allow me to act on my thoughts and desires.

I attributed it to the whole kicking a man while he was down. It wasn't something I ever signed on for, and if there was ever a man who was down, it was Lester in this moment. The acknowledgement of his condition didn't stop the desire for my actions; in fact, my desire had never been higher but my beliefs, morals and the man I have always been prevented me from acting on my carnal desires.

I could see Lester was battling an internal conflict, not unlike the one I was fighting, or for that matter all of us, if I cared to look around the room at the other men. I wasn't sure what Lester's conflict was over as he didn't have a fucking thing to be mad at us about. If anything, we all should be kicking his ass right now. He turned to leave touching the door and I found my voice.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I asked him, barely recognizing my own voice. He stopped but never turned back toward me, with his back to me, his head dropped and I couldn't help but think he should be ashamed, though I didn't voice it out loud.

When it was apparent he wasn't going to speak up, I once again found my voice. From the sound of my voice, I would say it was the way a man would sound that was drowning in sorrow, drowning in emotions and I wasn't a man that did either at least not until Stephanie, until now. "You could at least tell us all what happened," I said, allowing the cynicism to show itself through my voice.

The motion in the room alerted me that others had become interested in what Lester had to say. Of course they had, this involved my Angel, whom we all love, so it goes without saying they would want to know what happened to her. His head lifted up and lowered again and if I could have seen his face I would have imagined his mouth opened and then closed without any sound crossing his lips. Once his head had lowered again, I started to prod him again for information when a whisper escaped, further halting me.

"She took the bullet that was meant for me," he said before slamming the door open and moving through it faster than I would think humanly possible. I was frozen from his whispered confession just long enough to allow his escape, but all my mind would allow me to think was, again, fuck.

I felt myself move and once again heard my shoes hitting the tiled floor as frustration began to filter in. I found myself once again chanting fuck over and over. Fuck that I hadn't heard anything, fuck that no one has been out to tell us if she is still alive, fuck that I am glad no one has come out as that just might mean they are still working to save her life, fuck that I am here, fuck Lester for whatever it was he didn't do that he should have done, fuck that I wasn't there protecting her, fuck that dead mother fucker still breathing. Fuck for just the fuck of it as this whole situation was about as fucked up as it could get.

**LPOV**

I tried to wait with the others but I couldn't do it. I felt the eyes on me, and I could hear their thoughts, feel the hate radiating off of them. It all hung heavy in the air even without being spoken. I knew all of them were thinking why the fuck I hadn't protected her. Cal was the only one who said anything and I could see it was taking all the control he had just to ask. I knew he wasn't the only one who wanted a pound of my flesh. Fuck, I would feel the same way had it been one of them. Had I not been present as a first hand witness to the events that took place, I would be demanding an answer. I would be demanding to be told what the fuck happened. I know Ranger is solely focused on being by her side and thinking about her, but I know his time with me will come. It is the one thing I have to hold on to, the hope that he will beat my ass to death.

When Cal cornered me, I tried my best to look him in the eye, but I couldn't. The guilt, shame and fear for her life were just too much. I wasn't afraid of them. I would take what they would dish out even if it was my death, for that is what I deserved, especially if she doesn't pull through. I was afraid to whisper the words, I was afraid to say that she had been shot and that I had been the reason. I was ashamed to admit that she was shot saving my sorry fucking ass.

I tried to look them in the eye but in the end I wasn't man enough. I just said what I couldn't keep from saying and my voice sounded nothing like usual. It was lost in the world of whispers. I closed my eyes, willing myself to stand there, but I wanted nothing more than to run from the room. I had let everyone standing in that room down and I knew it.

I had let the thing they held most dear to this world, the one thing that for some of them allowed themselves to love again, to be hurt. I had let down my fellow brothers, the men I stood with on countless battlefields and in dangerous streets where they counted on me to have their backs, which I always had. I had let them down. I had broken that trust in a way that would never be forgiven. I had allowed, no, not just allowed, but I was the reason why she was fighting for her life.

I couldn't stand in the room with them any longer, so I left without looking back. My feet carried me wherever they went, I didn't know and I didn't care, I just needed some alone time some time to come to grips with what happened, time to get my head on straight and time to mourn. I had seen the blood that she lost. I had seen it, felt it and watched it pour from her body. I wasn't a stranger to blood or to wounds; I had seen too much, dealt with it all, but this was my Beautiful. She meant something more than my brothers.

I mourned every loss on the battlefields and on missions. Good men, honorable men, men who I called friends, men who were brothers, men who I even, on some level, loved. But it wasn't the same. This time was different and I didn't know why other than it was her. My connection to her, my love for her, was different. She was different. When she looked at me, I saw the man I wanted to be in her eyes, not the true man I was. She saw good in me, like I still had some left. She'd smile at my stupid fucking jokes and laugh at my dumber than fuck double entendres. Seeing her smile and laugh just egged me on. I would do anything to see her face light up with that beautiful smile. She always thought we could read minds and to a degree she may be right.

Not that we can really read minds, but when you spend as much time with someone as we do, you tend to know them well enough to know what they are thinking, to accurately guess what they will do. For Beautiful, it was always her face that told us everything we needed to know. We could see it on her face, exactly how she felt and what she was thinking. It was like an open book for us and we only needed to read it. It wasn't magic or anything paranormal; not that we told her that. The mystery worked for us. Her becoming one of us, on many levels, would have only showed her that we weren't magic.

Before I knew it, I felt the fresh air hit my face and I took a big breath. I won't say it was a cleansing breath as it was filled with lingering car fumes and stale smoke from smokers who had long left the designated area but I didn't give a shit. What did I care? I could breath, I could smell, but my best friend couldn't, or at least she wasn't the last time I saw her.

I wanted to scream and pound the closest thing to me into oblivion. My chest hurt, my heart squeezed and my mind was stuck in a loop of seeing her lying there. Feeling her land on top of me only to remember she had taken the bullet meant for me sent me over the edge. "Fuck," I screamed, my voice not sounding like my own as it echoed through the parking structure. Red flashed before my eyes and everything went dark around me. I felt nothing, I saw nothing. I just went on instinct and feelings, something my control didn't typically allow. This was one of those few times when I had no control. I was raw, I was wild, and, in this moment, I was rabid. I didn't give a fuck.

I knew I would end up hurting someone or something, but I couldn't find the will to care. I no longer gave a damn who I hurt or what I did. I didn't have the ability care anymore; without her, it was all gone. Though a tiny voice in my head told me that she could still be holding on, the realist in me already knew what they were going to tell me.

I already knew what the doctors were going to say, and what Ranger was going to do when he heard the words from them and later heard my pitiful excuse that she took the bullet for me. I relished the knowledge of what he would do and I could only pray that he wouldn't make it painless. If I was in physical pain, then I would no longer feel the hurt from inside. Most would beg for forgiveness or beg for their lives to end as painless as possible, but for me, that was chicken shit. What happened to her hadn't been painless and I didn't want for what was going to happen to me to be painless. I wanted my death to come from only wishing I was dead because I could no longer take the pain being inflicted. I fucking deserved no less and far more than I was willing to admit. I had let her down.

I felt strong arms wrap me and I felt myself being lifted off of the ground. Fuck. "Fucking put me down." My voice strong and deadly to the point that it would have had me taking notice if directed at me, but whoever it was who had me wasn't heeding my warning. I tried to move my arms but they were locked by my side, unable to bend. I tried throwing my arms out to break the hold, but they couldn't budge.

I kicked out behind me but my foot didn't make contact. Fuck. Who the fuck had me, holding me to the point that I couldn't move? There was only one person who I knew who could do this and the last time I checked, he wasn't here. He was inside, where he belonged.

"Man, you need to calm down." I heard his voice and I knew it was who I thought, Tank. I struggled more now that I knew it was Tank as the rage within grew that he would fucking grab me. What the fuck was he doing? Why the fuck would he grab me?

"Man, you need to stop before I have Bobby sedate you." I heard the warning in his voice and I knew he would do it. I also knew Bobby was with Beautiful so he didn't really have a way to carry out his threat but I didn't want to test him. Knowing Tank, he would pull Bobby away from her to sedate me. If, by chance of a fucking miracle, she was still living, then she needed Bobby beside her. I wasn't about to have him called away from her, not when he was probably the only one standing between her living and dying, so I calmed in his arms, my feet dangled from the ground.

"You can put me down any time now," I all but yelled at him, anger filling me.

"Not until I know you are done going ape shit," he said, his voice pissing me off at how calm he sounded. I wanted to punch him and rage at him for being so fucking calm.

"Man, she's my sister. I love her just as much as you," he said, sensing where my thoughts were. I wanted to yell at him that he sure as fuck wasn't showing it, but I knew deep down he was affected, I knew deep down he was holding on to the last strand of sanity like myself and the rest of the guys waiting inside. I also knew that he too was holding that last bit of breath back waiting for any word on her condition.

"What the fuck do you want, why the fuck are you out here?" I asked him. I wanted to ask the million dollar question but I didn't have the balls to ask it. I didn't want to hear that she was no longer with us.

"Man, I came to tell you to get your fucking ass back in there. But when I rounded the corner and saw you beating the shit out of the bug, I decided I needed to stop you before you injured your dumb fuck self," Tank said. My initial thoughts were what fucking bug until my eyes focused on the car before me.

Broken window, dented up door and front quarter panel and the side mirror hanging by wires. Fuck, I had done that amount of damage? I looked at my hands and saw the blood dripping from them the dark purple bruises on my knuckles. I instinctively knew it would take weeks or longer to heal if I hadn't broken anything. It was like I was looking at someone else's hands as there was no pain. I felt nothing. I didn't even feel the first punch or kick. If it hadn't been for the boot print in the door, I would have sworn this car suffered this damage prior to parking in the spot. Fuck. I had no way of fixing this shit.

"You can put me down now. I am not going to beat on the car anymore," I told Tank, my voice only echoing how much of the fight had drained from my body. I felt my feet come in contact with the floor as he dropped me and my knees felt as though they wanted to give out under my weight.

"Have you heard anything?" I finally asked and saw him shake his head from side to side. I no longer knew if I should be thankful or be fucking pissed, but if it meant she was still alive, I would hold on to that.

"She needs you, man, she needs all of us to be there. She doesn't need you out here kicking the shit out of some poor, helpless, defenseless car," he said, his words hitting home how true they were. I knew she needed me, I knew she would want me to be there, but I also knew that on some level I wasn't ready to see her.

I didn't want to see her hurt, I didn't want to see her with all the machines she would have attached to her. I didn't want to see her knowing that on some level deep within me, I blamed her for all this shit. I blamed her for what happened because she blocked me, because she protected me from that bullet.

"Don't go down that road, fucker. Suck it up and do what needs to be done so you can be there for her. Don't make me have to kick your fucking ass. She protected you, get the fuck over it. You be the man she thought worthy to save and not some fucking cry baby who throws a fucking tantrum because his fucking toy was taken away by his momma!" Tank yelled at me.

"Fuck you!" I yelled back. With each word, I felt the fight burning back within my weakened frame.

"You want to fight me? You want to take me on?" Tank asked me calmly and quietly. My initial reaction was 'fucking A, ass fuck,' but I didn't voice those thoughts out loud. It would be a good release for all the pent up frustration, and the fucking rage coiling its way throughout my body, but in the end, I stood down. I knew that this fight wouldn't come with pulled punches and kicks. It would be full on, full strength ass kicking. I could see it in his eyes. Like me, he had pent up rage and frustration itching for a release. He could have his moment if she was no longer with us; I would gladly and freely give him his moment to beat my ass.

"How am I going to go in there and face everyone?" I asked the fight leaving my voice and making it sound more along the way I felt on edge, nervous and uncertain. All of which I hated. He looked at me his eyes boring into me putting me further on edge.

"Don't worry about that. Just be there for her," he deadpanned as he walked away. Looking over his shoulder "Oh and, Santos, you owe someone a car, figure out who the fuck that car belongs to and replace it," he said as he was walking away. Fuck. I ran my hand through my hair, looking back at the car which could probably be fixed. I heard his voice low and deep borderline menacing from across the garage. "I said replace."

Fuck was the first thought but looking at the car I couldn't disagree. I clearly owed someone a car.

I turned to follow Tank back into the building. I would deal with finding the car owner later. I had the license plate number so finding the owner wouldn't be that hard. Replacing a car was the least of my worries right now.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds!_

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar, your patience is much appreciated! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you make my day! _

_Let me take a moment just to say that my thoughts and prayers are with all Bostonians. I am sorry for the victims and their families for the attacks at the marathon and the other attacks that have taken place across a wonderful city. There are really no words for sorry seems so inadequate._

**Chapter 4 **

**BPOV**

I glanced over, for the millionth time it seems, to see Ranger standing in the room. He shouldn't be here, it wasn't allowed, but there was no one in the hospital willing to tell him that. The look on his face had everyone steering clear of him. I saw past the menacing look, seeing the total devastation within him made me wince.

I had been with him for several years and I can say I had never seen him the way he was today. Deadly wouldn't describe the look; I am not sure there is a description. I knew his heart was breaking with every second we worked on her. We were trying to get her stable enough to take her to the operating room, but nothing was coming easy. She had lost a lot of blood.

We still weren't sure the extent of all of her injuries. The only thing we knew for sure at this point was that she took a bullet to the top of her chest close to her collarbone. In fact, it was pretty safe to say that her collarbone was shattered from the impact of the bullet.

We were digging out pieces of her iPOD we had just given her. It had taken the bullet and, if she survived this, then it could be the single reason why she lived to talk about it. It just might have saved her life, but that didn't make me feel better. A machine was now breathing for her and her heart was barely beating on its own, but it was at least beating. After several attempts, we were able to shock it back to beating. Though it was beating, it was clear it wasn't beating normally.

We all knew she could go into cardiac arrest at any moment.

We wouldn't know the exact cause until we could get in and look at it, but it was either because she didn't have enough blood in her system, or somehow her heart had been damaged with the impact of the bullet. We knew one of her lungs was damaged, but we didn't know to what extent. We were working as quickly as possible to prepare her for the surgery she would need to save her.

I wasn't a doctor, but I continued working alongside them and none of them bothered to tell me to leave her. Maybe it was on my face, they knew they would never be able to remove me, but they just continued to work without protesting my assistance. Most of the doctors knew me from prior visits, and they knew when it came to trauma, I had more experience than any of them standing in the Emergency Room. I had worked under less than ideal conditions and I had dealt with just as of a critical injury and even more so. This is not to say that having your heart stop and being unable to breathe on your own isn't a critical injury because it is; I had just seen worse.

"Okay, let's move her," I heard one of the nameless, faceless doctors say and I couldn't help but think it was about fucking time. I heard the door open and I felt the bed move, but I continued my work trying to keep her from continue to bleed out. She had already lost a massive amount of blood she didn't need to lose anymore. We would be giving her a transfusion as it was.

I felt the bed bounce off of the wall and before I had a chance to move, Ranger had jumped into action. I wasn't able to contain him and help her so I had to just walk past as the man who I assumed was responsible was being suspended from the ground by this throat.

"Ranger, you don't want to do that," I said looking behind me, knowing full well he did want to do it. He wanted to kill him and he was barely holding back. We kept moving down the hall as I kept looking for him to appear through the door. I wasn't sure what had transpired, but before we turned the corner I saw him emerge from the room tracking us down. I hoped he hadn't killed the guy, but I didn't have time to turn back and check.

I figured he wouldn't allow her to get too far away from him but I also wasn't going to halt our progress to the operating room to wait on him. Time was of the essence and I already feared we had taken too much time trying to stabilize her, even though I knew it was necessary.

"Ranger, you won't be allowed in the operating room," I told him when he caught up to us. I wanted to prepare him for what was to come. He didn't respond and I didn't take that as a good sign but I continued. "You can fight us all, if you want, you can keep us from getting her in there, but she needs to be in there. Fuck, she needed to be in there when this fucking happened. She has already lost valuable time, time I'm not sure we had to lose, so for her sake, please don't take any more," I told him, hoping that I was getting through to him how important it was for him to do what I asked without fighting me.

"The rooms are small and we already have a team that will be working on her. I will scrub up and be in there with her. I promise you I will take care of her. I will make sure things are done right, trust me," I begged without getting any response from him. I quickly looked up just to verify that he had in fact heard me, that he understood what I was saying.

The look in his eyes had me breaking out in a cold sweet, haunting me, but they told me that he had heard every word and understood what I was trying to prepare him for along with my pleading and begging to let us do our job. It was very likely she wouldn't make it.

We started to push her through the double doors and I once again felt the need to speak up. "Ranger, this is as far as they will allow you," I explained as the operating room staff gathered around to help further prepare her for surgery.

Ranger grabbed my arm and I paused for a moment to look at him. I saw the loss in his eyes; I saw fear which took my breath for a moment. I am not sure I have ever looked at him and seen fear. I am not stupid enough to believe that he has never been afraid, but he damn sure had never shown it before. I could see the beginnings of a broken man. This was something I knew that we would all be, if we lost her.

'Man, bring her back to me,' I heard in my head, though his lips never moved. My eyes locked on his, widening slightly, acknowledging the unspoken request as it broke my heart. The force of his thoughts caused a lump to form in my throat that I had to swallow hard to clear, before I was able to respond.

"I plan on bringing her back to all of us," I said aloud, answering his unspoken words, turning to push her into the operating room. I wanted to give Tank or someone the heads up, that Ranger was left waiting in the hallway but there wasn't time. I knew he wouldn't leave until we came out, but I also wasn't sure of what condition I had left him in. He was on the edge of losing control.

The fact that he hadn't spoken since seeing her spoke volumes. Ranger was a dangerous man, no one argued with that. He also wasn't a man who felt the need to speak often, however a totally silent Ranger was a man who made the hairs on the back of your neck raise. You felt the power radiate off of him in such a way that told everyone around him he was to be avoided, you knew he was dangerous. He was alpha among the men and no one was brave enough or crazy enough to challenge him. In the simplest of form, a silent Ranger was an extremely lethal Ranger.

I could see the bands of his control breaking with every second. I knew the beast within was trying to break free to claim his revenge. I knew the man within was wrestling with the beast to keep control but I knew that if we lost her, the battle would be over and the beast would burst forth and I wasn't sure what that meant for the hospital at large.

It was something I couldn't control, or get lost in the thoughts of 'what if'. I needed to focus on something else that I couldn't control, but could hopefully offer my help to save.

The nurses worked fast prepping her for surgery, while I along with the surgeons washed up and dressed in scrubs and gowns covering any body part that could introduce germs or bacteria within the sterile environment. I know I had looked at the clock enough to watch every minute pass, but time wasn't on our side. Even as stable as she was, every minute we lost was a precious moment that could mean the difference between saving her life and losing it.

I walked into the room; the cold was the first thing that registered, the second, is the sight of Steph lying on the table. A sheet was placed over her body, leaving exposed her injured chest, heart and shoulder. I saw the bullet hole but I knew there had been more damage than that small hole would indicate. There was a good chance her lung was damaged, but I feared that somehow her heart was also affected as it had stopped beating on the scene.

Her blood loss was substantial, to the point of requiring a transfusion, for which I quickly assessed who among the Rangeman group could be donors. Her blood type was O negative, not the easiest to find, but we had members. The good thing about them being donors was that I didn't need to wait for the blood to be tested. I knew the status of every Rangeman.

I wanted to bark orders at the scrub-dressed men and women, but they weren't people I had any authority over, so I struggled to refrain. I needed Zip, Vince, Slyder and Spade. I knew Spade was a few hours away even with the Rangeman jets. Spade was one of the leaders in the Las Vegas office. He would come if called and he would give blood if needed. He wouldn't have to meet Stephanie to donate his blood for her, for that I was thankful. I looked around the room to see who could get my message out.

"I have donors for her that have her blood type," I spoke aloud, telling everyone and no one person in particular.

"We have blood here to use," one of the doctors said but I shook my head in disagreement.

"We will use the guys' blood, I know the source, I know the shape of these men and I can vouch for every ounce. You can keep the blood you have on hand for someone else," I simply but forcefully stated. I knew the guys would want to donate; knowing that they were able to aid her would go a long way with them.

"What do we need to do to get the guys set up?" I asked as the doctor began to cut her open. I checked the machines to ensure her blood pressure and heart rate were within the stable range as I watched the doctor proceed with the surgery.

"I will take care of it," one of the nurses stated, cutting off the doctor who was about to respond. From the look on his face, he wasn't too happy about her comment. However, he was smart enough not to further comment and choose to focus back on Stephanie.

"Speak to Tank, he will be in the waiting room, have him get Slyder, Vince, Zero and Zip to give their blood. Tell him to call Spade as we will need him as well," I told her. I knew she wouldn't understand everything, but Tank would and that was what was important.

I listened to the operating room chatter as the surgeon would ask for one tool or another or the nurse would call out stats and then push different buttons as the anesthesiologist worked to ensure she stayed under but remained breathing . I just watched and kept check that everyone was doing all that they could do to save her life.

I heard the bullet plink into the bowl as it was dropped, red and contorted where it slightly flattened upon impact. Seeing the bullet made my arms tingle, my neck feel as though something had just crawled up it and caused my stomach to feel as though it was ready to carry out a full revolution.

I swallowed, trying to keep the contents down, while slowly breathing in through my nose. I continued to hear little plinks hit the bowl and then realized they were pulling out little pieces of metal, plastic and bone. Her collar bone was shattered, from what I could see, and there was no fusing those pieces back together.

"This caused her heart to fail," the doctor announced holding up a little piece of metal. Making sure he had my attention, he continued, "it broke off of the iPod when the bullet hit it and lodged into her heart."

I felt even sicker as my skin pricked with warmth and moisture; this reaction wasn't me. I hadn't felt this way since the first days of medical training in the field. I needed to get a fucking grip; I needed to focus on what was important: saving her life.

Focusing back on her lying on the table as the surgeon worked on her, I couldn't keep my thoughts away from the fact that the iPod we had given her had almost killed her**.**

**SLYDERPOV**

I had been pacing the floors of the hospital. Lost somewhere in the back hallways of the emergency room area, I walked. I was trying to wrap my mind around what happened. I was trying to figure out exactly how both Lester and I had missed the threat. I wanted to kick my own ass for having not seen the threat in time.

I blamed myself. My partner was fighting for her life. I hadn't known her as long as the other guys but she had planted herself in my heart the first day I met her. The smile on her face, the pride shining in her eyes, it was something that endeared her to me. The laughter and the general love I could feel pouring from her for all the guys, was something that I never expected. It was impossible to know her and be near her and not fall hopelessly for her.

I halted before going into the waiting room. I wanted to be with the guys, but was yet not really ready to face them with the events of what happened. I had stood outside her door until they rolled her out and I had to steel myself to keep from following them. I knew I wasn't wanted. I knew I wouldn't be allowed past a certain point. Ranger was with her, Bobby was beside her working with the doctors, so I knew she was in good hands, but that didn't stop the desire to be near her.

I knew Ranger needed his space, but also deep within me, I knew leaving Ranger alone wasn't necessarily the smartest move either. Turning, I started walking in the direction they took her. I knew they were moving her to surgery even though I wasn't exactly sure where they were, I had no doubt I would find them. I cursed thinking I should have followed them as far as they would have allowed me, but at the time I felt as though I was a third wheel. I didn't belong, so I had held myself back.

Now having thought about the condition Ranger was in, I wasn't sure that was the safest decision I could have made. It was safer for me, but not safe for any of the other unsuspecting people in the building. I knew I needed to go and watch out for them. Not that I was any match for Ranger. I knew I wouldn't hold him or prevent him from hurting someone, but I could withstand a whole lot more than the average visitor.

Turning corner after corner, as I made my way from the Emergency Room to the Operating Rooms, I briefly wondered how anyone knew where they were in this god forsaken place. I had navigated flying across oceans easier than this Byzantine maze. Try navigating from one location to another when there are no fucking street signs guiding you and dealing with thousands of flight patterns. I was a master of navigation and directions and this place fucking confused me.

I rounded the corner and saw Ranger standing outside of the operating room door. I almost smiled, but knew better to show that as I knew Ranger was looking at me. I knew he would have gone on alert the moment he sensed me coming. Like an alpha wolf protecting his mate, he would remain on alert until the threat was over. He would be ready for the attack and I knew even though we weren't wolves, we weren't pack animals, I needed to acquiesce to the beast within him.

He wasn't going to transform to an animal, we weren't creatures, he was just a man, but he was a deadly man. Here was a man who had years of training and years of defending himself and soldiers on his team. Ranger was a dangerous man and for someone not to recognize how deadly he could be was definitely a foolish move. Seeing the cords in his neck tight and straining said it all. He was holding on to last strings of his control. I didn't need for me to be the reason he lost control. It was more than likely going to happen before the day was over, but it wouldn't be me causing it.

I could only pray it wouldn't be at the news that Stephanie didn't make it. I briefly shut my eyes, cutting off connection between Ranger and me. I wasn't sure that was the brightest of idea, but I couldn't risk him reading the thoughts of her not making it rush through my mind. I needed to be positive for him, I needed to be reassuring that all was going to be okay. Not that I thought it would do much good, but at least it wouldn't hurt. Even if it changed nothing for Ranger, it would hopefully help him keep the beast within under control.

Not wanting to further provoke him into action, I kept my distance, stopping and leaning against the opposite wall. We were here for the same purpose. He hadn't spoken and that only further emphasized to the state he was in. I prayed she would be okay and pull through, but I also prayed that Ranger would hold it together.

I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Tank informing him my Incendia was in surgery and Ranger was waiting in the hallway. I didn't mention his state as I knew Tank would have already known. He knew Ranger well enough to know. Fuck, he knew better than I did looking at him. He would also know that I was no match for the beast within Ranger.

I once again looked at Ranger standing beside the door almost as if he was at parade rest, his feet hip width apart, his arms behind his back, his shoulders straight and slightly pulled back, his back straight, his head held high. His eyes were alert, however, and slightly narrowed. Seeing his eyes told me that what I was seeing was nothing but a façade. It was all false. It was the image he wanted us to see, that he wanted everyone to see.

If he was truly showing the world his true feelings, we would be looking at a broken man lying on the floor, unable to stand. I could see the pain in his eyes, the torment, the uncertainty, and it made my mouth go dry. Looking at him, it was as if his soul was crying, begging, and there was something I had never seen before in Ranger: fear.

I wanted to cringe; I wanted to start trying to comfort him as my friend, to tell him that it was alright that she was going to be alright, but I knew that would be a fatal mistake. One, those were promises I couldn't keep, and, two, he would have seen through it. He would know that I read his feelings and I wasn't buying the image he was putting on display for the public. While we were friends, I wasn't sure our friendship lent itself to such an intimate level.

So I did the smart thing and just stood opposite him and never let on to the fact that I witnessed anything beyond what he was presenting to the world. While he didn't appear to be an unaffected man, he was definitely not showing the man he currently was. If I had a label for him right now, it would be broken, irrevocably broken, and if she didn't make it through this, then, like a vehicle with bad spark plugs, he would never run right again. He would be forever broken.

I briefly wondered if she pulled through, no, when she pulled through, if he would share any of these feelings with her. I also wondered if she would truly grasp the full gravity of these feelings if and when he shared it with her.

They were truly soul mates, and looking at him now, he looked as though he had lost his mate. I swallowed, once again, trying to moisten my dry mouth and throat, but it didn't seem to make it better. I hadn't spoken to him and I wasn't planning on speaking to him as I knew he wouldn't respond. I had nothing to say that he wanted to hear.

**LPOV**

I walked back into the room, having followed Tank from the parking garage. He hadn't spoken any more the whole way back to the room. I knew I was dragging my feet, but I also knew that these were my brothers. While I knew I had let them down and I would answer for that in time, maybe sooner rather than later depending on who and if she survived or not, I also knew that I needed them.

I needed their company to keep me level. I needed to be here for her when she woke up, but I also wasn't sure how I was going to do that. I felt guilty for being mad at her, but I couldn't help it. She had done something so stupid, stupid to the point that I wasn't sure how to proceed with not being mad at her and wanting to take my anger out on her.

Fuck. I felt the guys' eyes on me. I knew they were waiting for me to speak up, but nothing had changed in the past few minutes. I was still unsure how I was going to face them and look them in the eye.

Movement caught my eye as the door to the waiting room opened. I watched as shock at first and then anger registered on the person's face who had entered the room. I instantly went on guard. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end I felt the monster within me rise with hatred, anger rose to the point that I felt as if I could blow fire from my nostrils.

The guys' movements as they gathered closer to him spoke to the level of how welcomed he was. I had seen foxes receive a warmer welcome from chickens in the hen house. I couldn't help but think what the fuck was he doing here? Who the hell had told him we were here?

"A room full of Rangeman can only mean one thing," he stated, his voice full of disdain and venom. I found myself stepping closer as the monster within me was like radar singled in on a target to be destroyed. No one answered his unspoken innuendo.

"I knew it, you all would eventually get her killed," he said, his lips curving into a smile as if he already were privy to news we had not heard. I was surprised when none of the men within the group moved or spoke, including myself. They just stood there staring at the arrogant prick that thought now was a good time to provoke us.

No one let his words change their behavior. I could tell, just like me, they were all questioning if his news of her being dead was something that came from fact or just something he said to lead us to a position that he could take advantage of. If it were, he hadn't succeeded.

I shifted antsy to take the bait, but I held back, waiting for him to show his hand. I reminded myself that he was a dumb fuck; he would eventually show his hand, for he could not help himself. He was a arrogant prick and he liked being the one that was right or that knew it all so I knew it would only be a matter of time that he would speak up, for he couldn't help himself.

"I told her mother you all would cost her daughter her life. I hope you are happy, this is nothing short of exactly what I said would happen to her," he said. I wanted to ram my fist down his throat until the point he fucking chocked. I wanted to cut his fucking heart out of his chest. Fuck that, reach in and rip the fucker out for him having been right. I would rather die a thousand times than that motherfucker be right about anything, especially pertaining to Beautiful.

I quickly reminded myself that he wasn't right, for she was living. She hadn't died. But experience told me that I was holding on to wishes, hopes, and prayers for that being the reality. I had seen her and I knew the delicate line on which her life was teetering. I quickly made the decision that I wasn't feeding him shit. I wasn't going to give him fucking shit of what I knew.

I took a step toward him and his eyes locked on mine. I saw his eyebrows rise a little when he took me in. I am sure the blood on me registered with him. I couldn't help but think be afraid, fucker, be very afraid. I could see it in his eyes even though he was trying to hold his own, he was a fucking scared pussy.

He had no place in her life. He had done things that, had he not been a fucking cop, would have signed his death warrant with us. Fuck, even being a cop wasn't exactly saving his ass. Beautiful had put him in his place exposing the photos of him and her mother. I almost smiled at the memory and the thoughts of how he would never get a good piece of ass in this town without having to pay for it or visit a geriatric ward to tap an old wrinkled ass.

I wondered how he fucking knew she was here but I wasn't about to let him know that I needed information from him. I wasn't going to give him a semblance of an edge over us. I would figure it out with his desire to talk. This fucker wanted to be heard; he wanted to shove what he knew in our face. That was why he was here. So I would let the fucktard have his ten minutes of glory.

What he didn't know was that he was going to be telling us more than just the words coming out of his mouth. A whole lot more, and I intended to use all of it against him. This wasn't the U.S. judicial system. In my eyes he was guilty of something and I had already judged and sentenced him. Now was just a matter of him telling me what it was he was guilty of. He knew too much not to be involved or to have been informed by someone. I fully intended to find out which it was.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds!_

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar, your patience is much appreciated! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you completely make my day! _

**Chapter 5**

**HectorPOV**

I heard voices and I turned and look up. I am not a man for shock but for a split second I was shocked to see who had walked into the waiting room. I would have thought he would have more self-preservation than to walk into a room filled with Rangemen. He had to know we knew all things that he had done to my Angelita. We knew what he was behind and how he had hurt her. Yet here he was throwing it our faces that we had gotten her killed.

My heart sank further and my thoughts darkened, the blackness taking back what the light had once coated. I felt the hardening within and I welcomed it as an old lost friend who had found the way home. I had been praying to Mother Mary to save her. I have asked the saints to watch over her and protect her. I wasn't ready to let her go, but as the darkness filled in, the light receded; without her, there was no light.

I felt my fingers ghost over my knife. I could see my knife sinking into his neck, splitting his carotid artery. To watch him fall dead at my feet would bring the darkness within me joy. I wanted him dead with every fiber of my being. I wondered why the others were so calm and just watching him as he ranted about how right he was. I saw a gleam from Lester's eyes that told me he wasn't as calm as I first thought; it also told me that Lester had a plan.

My plan, if Angelita didn't make it, had been to kill Lester the first chance I got. He was like a brother to me, but he needed to know that he fucked up. And he needed to pay for that fuck up. The darkness in me demanded his blood for the blood that she had shed. I knew that if she survived, she would forever hate me, but it was worth it to let others know that she is to be protected. Seeing that he had a plan for the cop may have just saved his life, if it paid off.

I wasn't sure what his plan was, but I was all for taking the motherfucking cop down. I already had plans for it but had held off because I didn't want it to come back to my Angelita. The broadcasting of the pictures would have consequences, and I wasn't sure if this was one of them or not, but I was fairly certain that the fact that this motherfucker was standing here was certainly one of the ramifications.

I only wished I had gone forward with my plan to end that motherfucker's life; the light within me had held me back, but I should have known better. The only good enemy is a dead enemy, hadn't my past taught me that time and time again? Yet I chose to ignore my instincts. Why would I allow an enemy of hers to walk the streets? Guilt washed through me. It hadn't been something I had felt since I had lost my sister.

Thoughts of my sister rushing through my mind gave me yet another reason to fucking kill him. My hands once again ghosted over my knives and thoughts of his blood spewing from his neck almost had me acting on my desires. The only things that stopped me were thoughts of my Angelita. I needed to be here for her and surely killing him here in public wouldn't be the smartest plan if I wanted to walk away.

It isn't that I feared prison. I knew I would do fine in prison, fuck, intimidation was my game. There wasn't a soft bone in me and prison life would suit me as far as getting along with the inmates. They weren't a threat. My freedom was something that I wouldn't give up so easily, but for her I would, willingly.

I briefly wondered what brought him to the hospital, how had he found out, but with the hospital gossip network and him having spies throughout the burg, it left little question as to how he knew we were here. It briefly dawned on me that maybe he had more information on Angelita than we did. Maybe she had in fact died, as he was insisting.

Hurt bubbled up in me as the loss of her grabbed my heart and squeezed the final light out. I felt myself harden and I knew I would never be the same. I never wanted to be the same.

I had loved my sister, and I had lost her young in life. I still carried the hurt within me that I wasn't able to save her. I had gotten my revenge for her death many times over. After many years, I had allowed myself to love Angelita only to have her ripped from me. I would get my revenge for her death also. I wouldn't rest until everyone had paid; anyone who had caused her pain would pay – with their lives.

Quickly, a plan mapped out in my mind. I would start with the people further away from her and move inward until the last person left was the fucker standing before me. He would know I was coming for him long before I got there. He would live in fear of when and where I would attack. He will live as the coward he is, for he would know he wouldn't be able stop me. He will know his day of judgment and reconciliation was upon him and yet he would have no control. The darkness within me smiled as I pictured ways to torment him to let him know I was one person closer, one step closer to taking his life.

I killed for many reasons; most had been to protect myself or someone I loved. In this case, it would be pure evil, pure malice and pay back. Pay back for her pain, her death, and her breath that was taken from her. There was no mercy when dealing with enemies. You killed them and then you made an example of them, a warning to all your other enemies of what awaits them, if they dare cross you.

In this case, it was different; this was more like being on the hunt. I would hunt down every one who had ever hurt her. I would stalk every one who had done her wrong and they would pay in blood for causing her pain and fear. I had already let them live longer than I should have.

I knew I could slip out of the room and no one would notice, but something held me there. I couldn't leave without hearing from someone other than the fucking cop that she was gone. I resisted the urge to leave and start my plan of revenge. I told myself it could wait even though the darkness within was impatient and demanding, almost hungry in its pursuit of retribution.

I saw several of the nosier nurses pass the waiting room, taking time to watch and strain to listen to what was being said. I watched as they would slow their pace, turning to listen and pausing to watch briefly before walking away, only to turn around and make another pass by within a few minutes. I couldn't help but wonder what their game in all of this was.

Did they just like to talk, did they side with the fucking cop and were they the ones who called him? Questions ran through my head and I wanted answers to them all. I knew I could get them talk. That wasn't a problem. I wouldn't even need to touch them to get them to talk. They would talk because they would be too afraid not to talk.

"I hope you all are happy now, who is going to have the honor of telling her mother that I was right? Who of you, which call yourselves her friend, are going to go to her parent's house look her mother in the eyes and tell her that you killed their daughter? Because of you all, she is dead," the fucking cop spewed as spittle popped off his bottom lip, his eyes burning with hatred but his lips curling slightly, as if he knew something we didn't. Something he was enjoying hiding from us. I vowed to find out, he would tell me right before I killed him.

No one spoke up; no one took the bait he threw out. "Fucking chicken shit cowards all of you. None of you are man enough to own up to the fact that had she not been with you all she would still be alive. She would be my girlfriend, fuck that, my wife and be pregnant with my child as we speak. She would have been happy and living instead of being fucking dead," he screamed.

Like she would have been happy with him? I saw the look in Lester's face and he wasn't buying it but I saw guilt in his eyes. I wasn't sure if the cop was able to see it, but I saw it. I had heard him say that she had taken the bullet meant for him. Part of me felt sorry for him and the other part wanted to rip him to shreds, but the more I looked at him, the sorrier I felt for him. Maybe I would let him live, even if she died, only because he would hurt more living with the guilt than killing him would ever cause.

I saved that thought for later. I watched the cop turn around after his tirade of nothingness and walk out. He thought he had won, he hadn't, he'd only further sealed his fate. I was now free to carry out my plan of getting more information. I wanted to know what those nurses knew and I wanted to know who they had been talking to.

I heard Tank's phone buzz and I halted. I wasn't sure why I stopped only that I was drawn to what the possibilities were. I heard air escape his lungs, a sigh of relief, and my eyes met his. I felt fear coil in my stomach along with uneasiness and I wasn't sure what to make of the strange feelings. They weren't emotions that I had felt often in my life, though I knew what they were and why I was experiencing them, I wasn't happy about it. I felt my lungs inhale and hold tight on the breath it had taken, my body was preparing itself for the news it was sure to come

Tank's voice was low and dark as he said words that had the light fighting to gain ground. "She is still alive, she is in the operating room fighting for her life," he said. I had never heard sweeter words in my life. I heard everyone let out a breath, including myself. It was a breath that we had all been holding, a breath of hope; we had all been thinking the worst, but hoping for the best. We all knew she wasn't out of the woods, but at least she was fighting. We hadn't lost her. I quickly thought back to that fucking cop, and add yet another reason to fucking kill him to my ever-growing list of reasons.

His day would come; even if she survived, his day would still come.

It was only moments later when a nurse entered the waiting room area asking to speak to Tank. I hadn't seen her before; she hadn't been one of the noisy nurses pacing the hallway. He walked out of the room with her and I once again found myself holding my breath as to what it could mean.

When Tank entered the room, he said, "men, she needs a blood transfusion. Vince, Zip, Zero, you all are needed right now. Slyder will meet you and I am going to contact Spade to have him fly in just in case she needs more," he said, setting the guys in motion. I watched as those called stepped up to the nurse pulling their sleeves up. They were glad to give her their blood. I frowned slightly, knowing my blood type of AB positive wouldn't help her.

It saddened me that I wasn't able to help her, until I thought about the nosey nurses. There were other ways to help her than give her my blood. I moved out of the waiting room silently, sending a prayer to Mother Mary that she would watch over my Angelita while I made her stay here at the hospital a little more tolerable.

I found one of the nurses start to sweep by the room again and I took the opportunity to steer her from her course. I knew I could use my body to intimate. I wasn't a big man like Tank or some of the other guys, but my tattoos did for me what their size did for them, it made people want to shy away from me. They didn't need to understand the meaning behind the tattoos, they instinctively knew they were gang markings and they feared them and me because of them. I knew making eye contact with her and walking into her would-be path was enough to veer her away from her intended destination.

At some level, these nosey women were worse than paparazzi, who at least they were trying to make a living; these women were doing it because they didn't know how not to gossip and spread lies. I narrowed my eyes, causing her eyes to widen slightly as she tried to move away from me. I smiled inside as I stepped further into her path, causing her to rethink her options of being able skirt around me. Sometimes this shit was too fucking easy.

Much like the deer caught in the headlights or the rabbit in the fox's trap, I had just caught my first nosey nurse.

I stepped closer, taking in the rise of fear and panic within her. I wasn't going to hurt her, but I didn't want her to necessarily know that, at least not right now. I would come to tell her, but only after she had told me what I wanted to know.

She was perfectly safe with me, but smelling the fear rolling off her brought forward the darkness within me, waking its senses with the putrid sweet smell. I felt it the darkness smile as I inhaled deeply. I quickly led her into a little nook that held a telephone and chair. Ushering her to the chair, she sat. Looking behind me to make sure the area was clear from anyone listening, I began.

"What's so interesting?" I asked her, almost smiling when I knew her answer would be one of confusion.

"Wh…What?" Her breath caught on her words as her eyes widened with the acknowledgement that I wanted information from her.

"You have been past the waiting room no less than a half dozen times, each time you slow, you watch, you listen. What is it you want? What's so interesting?" I asked, further elaborating my question hoping she was smart enough to take the lifeline I was throwing her.

"I…I have to pass by for my job, but I was briefly wondering why so many men with weapons were in the waiting room," she said and I crossed my arms across my body, spreading my stance in front of her. I wasn't buying the lame excuse she was trying to sell.

"So you just thought you would walk past the room a half dozen times to try and figure out why we were there?" I questioned her and her eyes locked on mine.

"Did it ever occur to you to just ask us?" I briefly threw out there and watched her eyes widen as realization that wasn't falling for her lies hit her.

"I…I wasn't sure who to approach," she tried to hide the truth again, but the lie continued to show itself, her body couldn't help itself. The jump in her artery, the movement of her eyes, the little things that most people never knew they did when lying. It was so easy to read when you knew what to look for.

I thought I would go for a different angle, one that I hoped would provide better results. I didn't want to hurt her to get to the truth. That wasn't my intention, but if this continued, I wasn't above it. I typically didn't hurt women, but Angelita came first and I would do whatever was necessary to protect her, up to and including hurting a woman.

"Okay, so you didn't know who to approach, now, one has approached you, why don't you ask me what you want to know?" I threw out there. And she reared back, her head tilting up towards me, her eyes opening round, her lungs gasping for air.

"Well," I prodded. She just shook her head. "Go ahead, you can ask me whatever you want, after all, I will choose if I want to answer," I stated, my patience growing thinner with each passing second. Her mouth opened and closed several times.

"Well….I...I know you are from Rangeman," she started, but then hesitated as if she was gathering the right words to say, so I gave her time. I finally nodded as if answering her question but I was also prodding her to continue. "I was just wondering if you all being here had to do with Stephanie," she said. Ah, the truth starts to come out.

I didn't answer right away but motioned with my hand for her to continue. I could tell she had more to say. She licked her lips and I could feel her nerves fire off energizing the little alcove. "I saw the pictures that were published of Joe and Stephanie's mother, Helen," she said. I nodded, once again prodding her to continue, smiling on the inside.

"When I saw Joe walk in there, I thought there may be trouble, so I was keeping my eye out," she said. Her pitiful excuse to try to make her reasoning sound altruistic; I knew better. I raised my head looking down at her letting her know her plan wasn't working.

"Well, that was part of it," she said, giving in, and then she paused; too fucking easy, I thought. "Then I wanted to be able to hear what was being said so I could tell some of the other nurses on the floor," she said finally confessing to her true reasons for her behavior. I almost laughed at the ridiculous look on her face. I had thoughts of a child being caught eating the cookie from the cookie jar.

"Nothing would have happened, the guys would never fall for it," I said referring back to her thoughts that there would be trouble. No one wanted to be arrested today. Arrested wasn't the problem, but no one was going to risk being taken away from the hospital not when we weren't sure if Angelita was dead or alive.

"Why was he here, did you call him?" I asked, she shook her head no and I tilted my head encouraging her to further elaborate.

"No…no one called him, he was here with his Grandmother and Mother," she said her voice was low almost a whisper. I moved my hand letting her know I wanted more.

"His Grandmother died before she got to the hospital and his mother had an issue with her heart. I don't know if it was a heart attack or a form of tachycardia but she is being treated in the hospital," she explained. I nodded.

"Do you know which floor she is stationed on?" I asked wanting to get all the information I could to keep him away from Stephanie's room. She nodded her head.

"She is on the Heart Unit, which is the third floor, but I don't know the room number. She wasn't under my care," she said, trying to explain why she didn't know room number. I nodded. Room numbers were easy, hell, floor numbers were easy enough, but I would take what I could get from her.

She had served her purpose, I had gotten all I needed from her so I left her with some parting wisdom, advice that I truly hoped she would heed.

"You would do good to steer clear of the cop and this whole mess," I warned her. She nodded starring up at me; I could see the questions on her mind. She was afraid, as she should be. I stepped closer, and I knew my stance was one of menace.

"It would be healthy for you to forget you know Stephanie, to not speak her name unless she is under your care and not to repeat what you hear or see," I warned, only hoping that she would take my warning to heart. It wasn't my intention to hurt her, but I wasn't going to stand by and let her talk about my Angelita either. She nodded her head, choosing not to speak.

From where I was standing, her fear was preventing her from even speaking, so I took a step back, giving her more room and making myself less of a threat.

"To further protect your health, I would steer clear of conversations about Stephanie, Joe, or Rangeman," she once again nodded, her eyes telling me that she understood the warning. It was clear. I nodded, forcing a smile which I am not sure did what I intended. I was hoping to ease her anxiety but my smile seemed to only increase it as the alcove electrified and the sweet putrid smell of abject fear had the darkness within me taking another delicious deep inhale.

"Very well, we have an understanding," I stated and then stepped further back out of the alcove. Lifting my hand to offer her hand up, she nervously accepted as if afraid not to. I smiled once again, trying to reassure her.

"You know, you are safe. I am not going to hurt you, I was never going to hurt you," I told her and I saw the questioning look in her eyes as they darted around the room and landed back on me. I saw her swallow as if she wasn't entirely buying what I was selling, but she nodded. I smiled once again as she began to walk away from me. Sometimes, it was just too easy.

I turned, making my way back to the waiting room I had no doubt the other nosey nurses would make their way by the room. I would bide my time.

I thought there use to be a saying, something about babies and candy, but I dismissed it, even I was not cruel enough to steal candy from a baby.

**SPADEPOV**

I hadn't been at my desk all day; it had been a day from hell. We had an account get broken into, we had responded and one of the men had taken a bullet to the leg. I needed to go check on Jake, but I hadn't had time with all the fucking red tape. The biggest time sink had been the police, they kept a hard on for Rangeman. Ever since the misunderstanding with Ranger that had forced him out of Nevada, they looked for any reason to burst our balls.

I couldn't help but feel that something was off, but I wasn't sure what it was. I had tried to notify Ranger that Jake had been shot, but I got no response. It wasn't like him to not call back when it involved one of our men. Uneasiness settled in my stomach and I told myself it was because I had missed lunch, but I knew it wasn't because of missing a meal.

I rocked back in my chair, rubbing my hands over my face. Sitting forward, I logged on to my laptop. The screens before me came to life and I couldn't help the sigh from falling off my lips. My inbox had exploded with emails from guys all over Rangeman. Fuck, it was just one of those days.

I move my chair closer to my desk, resigning myself to the fact that I would need to reply to the emails before I could retire to my apartment for the evening. I started to open the first email when my phone. Fuck, another hold up.

I pick up the phone, "Hello," my voice was a little short with irritation at the emails that were staring at me, waiting for an answer.

"I need you on a flight here ASAP, I need you at Trenton Memorial Hospital," Tank said. My snarky reply of 'hello the fuck to you too' died on my tongue as soon as I heard I was needed at the hospital.

"What's wrong? Who is hurt?" I asked, not sure I really wanted to know as Tank has never asked me to fly across the country because someone was in the hospital.

"Stephanie has been shot and she needs blood. I don't know much else other than she is in the operating room and she needs blood. You are her type. I need you here," he said, his voice making painfully clear the priority this should be given.

"You got it," I answered, reaching for my other phone to call the airstrip. Our jet was sitting there it could be ready to take off in the matter of minutes.

"I will give you ETA when I know," I told him and heard a grunt of acknowledgement before he disconnected. Fuck, could this day get shitter? I looked back at the emails on the screen and wished I was answering them. I stood, grabbing my go bag stored beside my desk and my laptop.

Stepping out into the office area I made a general announcement. "I am not sure whose ears this is meant for so keep it to yourselves. Stephanie has been shot. I am heading there to donate some blood. Blake will be in charge. Cam, I need you with me as you have O negative blood," I figured the more I could bring the better off we would be.

Cam nodded turning heading back to his desk. I knew he had a go back under his desk and he too would be ready in the matter of minutes. I headed for the elevator while confirming with the pilot that he would have the plane ready for takeoff before the hour was up.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_I want to say that I am glad to be back posting! Thank you for all the thoughtful and kind PMs for the past several weeks it has been much appreciated!_

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds! _

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. _

_My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar, your patience is much appreciated! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you completely make my day! _

**Chapter 6:**

**RPOV**

I was dumbfounded. Just like a horse that stands in one spot in a field, I didn't know what to do, think, or feel. The nightmare that I have had feared for the past several years has come true. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to curl up in a ball and never uncoil. The reality of what has happened was crippling me from the inside out, and I was completely powerless against its attack.

I wanted to yell, I wanted to stomp, and I wanted to kill everyone in my sight; my anger was so raw, but I can't lash out. It wasn't their fault. There was no one to blame for this but one person: me. I was the reason for all of this. I had known deep down inside what would happen if I ever allowed her to be a part of my world. I had known the dangers and I was the very one who had decided to overlook them. I had rationalized false truths and made up realities to have the necessary excuses that would allow me to pull my Babe closer to me.

It was my jealousy, my selfishness, and my need for her that kept eating at me and breaking down my defenses. I thought about every one of my reasons for why it was a bad idea, and then the excuses I had made. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should have been stronger. Had I been stronger, today would have never happened. She would be safe.

I closed my eyes at the thoughts, trying to cut off the ache they bring, but nothing helped. My inner voice wouldn't give up on all of the 'I told you so', the 'I knew better and should have listened' and the one that cuts deeper than them all 'you are the reason she is fighting for her life.' One reason after another, my inner voice tore at my soul to ensure I will never forget the totally fucked up decision I had made to pull my Babe into my life.

I had avoided Stephanie. I had done my best to separate us, to stay out of her life. But with every little thing happening to her, it had only thrown us back together. At first, I said I only did those things to help her because she needed the help. I told myself I needed to teach her how to be a bounty hunter. We all know how that turned out. I never really taught her, I just stepped in handled the issues, tried to protect her from harm as much as she would allow, and ordered my men to keep her safe when I couldn't. None of it teaching her how to handle the situation herself. Truth be told, there was a part of me that didn't want her to know. I wanted her to be safe, I wanted her to have a safe job, and for a while I hoped that she would chose a safer path.

I had kept her at arm length, telling myself that my world was too dangerous. Seeing her with that fucking cop became virtually impossible for me to handle. I wanted to rip his fucking head off every time he touched her. I knew he didn't make her feel the way I did. I knew she didn't feel the same way when he touched her. I knew from the stolen touches and kisses in the alley that what we had was unique.

I knew I had never felt that way about any woman and I knew she had never felt it before either, especially with that fucking prick of a cop. Had he ever made her happy, I might have been able to step back and allow her happiness, but he didn't. She wasn't. He took what he wanted and left the rest of her wishing for more. I was her more and I could give her more. I sure as fuck knew I wanted more.

I would say I was just a man and I acted like a man, but I know myself better. That is just weakness. That is just an excuse to not show how truly weak I was. I could have walked away from her, it would have killed me in ways I am not sure I even know even to this minute, but I could have walked away. I should have walked away. I should have never allowed our relationship to get to this. I should have left that day I met her, but even then, it was almost too late.

That day she walked into the diner and my eyes met hers before she even saw me sitting there, and I knew then it was already too late. She scanned the room, her brown curls wild and framing her face. Her body glistening slightly from the hot New Jersey day. She looked radiant and my heart skipped a beat. When her eyes met mine, I felt my heart stutter as her blue eyes locked on mine.

I forced myself to remain cool and calm sitting in the booth with my back to the wall, thankful to Uncle Sam for years of training or else I would have been falling at her feet. However, the seal to my fate was when she met my gaze, set her jaw, and all but put me in my place. Her determination to become a bounty hunter with or without my help was all it took. Seeing that stubborn streak, which typically would have turned me off, but with her, it only turned me on. I couldn't have said no to her, I couldn't have turned her away.

I used all sorts of excuses as to why I needed to help her. But, let's be honest, I didn't really need to help her. I wasn't obligated to help her. There was nothing written that I had to be the one to rescue the woman who jumped in head first into the world of bounty hunting because she was driving a piece of shit vehicle. I did it because I couldn't say no to her. I have never been able to say to no her from day one.

I tried to keep my distance, but she seemed to worm her way in. First, by winning my men over one by one and endearing herself to them one disaster after the other. It kept them on their toes, it kept them expecting the unexpected. She was a breath of fresh air to all of them; no matter how many she managed to break, they kept begging to be the one to watch over her and to rescue her from one of her many disasters that seemed to only happen to her.

I wasn't able to say no when she found her way to Rangeman, and, for all purposes, broke into my apartment even though she had the key. The men were calling me in a panic because she was in the building and they didn't know what to do. It almost had me laughing out loud. I will never forget seeing her lying in my bed when I rushed home. I had driven all night to just see her in my apartment, hoping she would be in my bed. The feeling almost overwhelmed me and I almost caved, but I managed to keep her at arm's length for a bit longer.

I knew for her to have come to my building something was wrong. She wouldn't have come seeking shelter if she felt safe in her apartment. I had told my men to find out what was going on but I couldn't stop my need for swooping in and saving my girl. I liked being her knight.

I wasn't able to say no when she called upon me for help, and I wasn't able to keep from asking her for help when I needed it. I wasn't sure why I went to her at the time. I could have turned to others for help, but I didn't. I immediately thought of her. Hell, I even chose to hide out in her apartment when I could have just as easily hidden at Rangeman, no one would have found me. Even if they had come with a search warrant and searched the whole building, they would have never found me. I told myself, if it came to that, it was better for Rangeman for me to not be in the building. That it was better to be somewhere where no one would think of. So, I had gone to Stephanie's, convincing myself it was for the security of my company when all along I knew the truth.

The truth was that I wanted to be beside her. I wanted to be with her and I knew she would help me without question. I wanted to spend time with her. Even spending that time together and having her prove to me the level at which I could trust her, I still managed to keep my distance. I still managed to keep the wall between us and keep her from becoming a part of my life.

I would lob excuses like the fact that I carried two guns and a knife, hell, we all knew that wasn't true. I was never short of weapons. In many cases, it was three guns and multiple knives. At times, there were even more weapons hidden on me. There were so many things I would tell her to throw her off of my real feelings for her. I couldn't let her see them. If she had known my true feelings, then I would have never been able to keep up the ruse. I would have never been able to keep her away and this day would have only been sooner in the making. I shut my eyes and try to cut off my brain; however, my brain isn't listening and continues its stroll down memory lane.

My mind settled on the first time I made love to her. I will never forget that night. I had gone to her because her day, hell, her week, had sucked. A dead body taped together with duct tape had been left on her couch. She had been tormented by her greatest fears snakes, spiders, and even a fucking man dressed as a bunny. I shook my head thinking of how the bunny had ended up dead in the street.

I had asked her to leave the job alone when I found out Abruzzi's involvement. I all but begged her to not get involved, but in true Stephanie fashion, she was already in the thick of it. She was in so deep that I wasn't able to get her out, at least not as easily as I had hoped for but in the end it worked out. He did the right thing ending his life, and the world was a better place without him.

I will never regret that night. I had gone to her apartment to check on her. I needed to know that she was okay. The couch greeting me in her hallway was just the first slip. Her reasoning for having pushed it out there well was something completely unexpected but yet being so her, pushed me further along. The smell of home baked cookies assaulted my nose and I just couldn't stop myself. I couldn't hold myself back from taking what I had wanted for so long. I will never forget the feel of her body next to mine or the way we fit together. It was pure magic.

I closed my eyes as guilt ran throughout my body. It wasn't that we had made love, that I had made love to her that I felt guilt for. It was what I did the morning after that almost had me bowing my head to the guilt that assaulted me.

It was all I could do the next morning to walk away from her. Once again, I was able to convince myself it was the right thing, that my life was wrong for her. I persuaded myself that she would want things that I couldn't give, that my life was too dangerous for her, so I handed her some shit saying and walked away. Everything that has happened today has only proved I was right in my motives. My life is too dangerous for her. My life is the wrong life for her.

After our night together, I found it harder and harder to stay away from her. It became more difficult to come up with excuses to stay away. I took opportunities to make love to her whenever she would let her defenses down enough to allow me. She thought it was just a friend with benefits arrangement, and her conscience would rarely allow her to be okay with that arrangement. Yet there were rare times when she gave in to her true desires and I took full advantages of those moments to love her. She never knew that it was never a friends with benefits deal for me. I was hers, all hers. I was as committed to her then as I was the day I pulled her into my life as I am today.

I had kept that to myself just as I kept how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, and how much I loved making love to her. For me to have admitted any of those things, it would have meant she was a part of my dangerous world. Then, the darkness that surrounds us would have touched her and I never wanted that. I never wanted her to be in danger, I never wanted her to have to fight for her life, and I certainly I never wanted there to be a day that I had to live through where she wasn't here.

I felt my body shiver, my lip tremble, and I close my eyes to keep the tears from falling. I was on the verge of losing everything I had ever thought I would have and the only person to blame was me and my weakness.

With each passing day, week, and month, it became harder and harder to stay away. The excuses clouded my better judgment, the reasons I had for keeping her out of my life paled in comparison to the reasons to make her a part of my life. I wanted to scream and fight. I wanted to yell and kill, but the only person I was mad at was myself for being so naïve and forgetting how truly dangerous my world was.

When I finally decided that I could no longer live without her and opened myself up to the possibilities of loving her, having a life with her, it was as if the floodgates opened permanently. There was no shutting that gate, no going back to not having her in my life.

My life was dangerous, fuck, we were always prepared for an attack from our enemies. Stephanie's and my life had gotten so entwined that my enemies had already sought her out. That was one of my arguments for pulling her into my life.

Scrog had sought her out. I close my eyes, trying to not relive how I almost lost her that night. I would have given my life ten times over to save them. After that, it was almost as if the argument for her not to be with me because of the dangers or the life I represented was null and void.

In my weakness, I had caved to my desires to have her. I rationalized that the dangers were no greater for her being in our world than they were on her own. It was what I wanted to believe, it was what I wanted, so I made myself believe the arguments in favor for having her be part of my life. I had pulled her into my world. I had made her my partner, my lover, and my life. I fully planned on making her my wife.

That single decision is the reason why she's fighting for her life this very minute. Had I held strong, and been the man she needed, the one who thought about her safety first, then none of this would have happened. She wouldn't have been hurt and wouldn't be fighting for her life this very minute. I had failed her because I had fallen for my basic needs: the need to love her and to have her love me back. My need to have her beside me in all things led to this.

To prove to herself that she was Rangeman worthy, she had gone through training. My men and I had trained her. We all would have accepted her the way she was. Fuck, we all love her and would have never asked anything of her other than to care about her safety. But like Stephanie, she needed to prove to us that she was worthy. Like we were some Gods or something, she wanted to prove her worth rather than just be accepted. I had never been more proud of her. Fuck, we all loved her and we were all proud of her. She had worked hard, trained hard, and she deserved everything she got.

She had excelled in her training, she had passed all the tests the men had thrown at her, and she had passed all of Rangeman's tests with scores better than most of the men on my team. She had done it all and I think that alone gave us all a false sense of security. It had given us all a false sense of her safety. Not that we would stop protecting her even if she were stronger than all of us. We would still protect her. But we had failed. We all failed her, especially me.

Thoughts crushed me from the inside and I once again felt my body sway and shiver; my eyes burned and I closed them to keep the moisture from falling. I felt my lips quiver and I wanted to let go. I wanted to just sink but I couldn't. If my Babe was fighting for her life, then I had to be strong. I had to stand and be strong for her. I can't let go, not while she is fighting.

I felt numb yet exhausted all at the same time. My arms and legs felt as though they were weighted down with hundred pound weights, but I wouldn't allow myself to crumble from the weight. I locked my knees and spread my legs slightly to hold the weight. I placed my hands at my back and locked them to help further balance the weight of my body.

I wasn't sure what had happened, I hadn't been able to ask; I wasn't sure why because a part of me really wanted to know what happened. However, what mattered right now was her life; saving her life was all that mattered. I couldn't lose her. I tried to grab hold of my anger to help me cope with the feeling of loss, to let it give me purpose, to allow it to give me direction through the pain but it wouldn't come.

Even with the knowledge that my weakness had gotten her hurt, even with the understanding it was my weakness in pulling her into my world that got her shot, even with the painful reality that my making her a part of my dangerous life put her life on the line, I couldn't deny my most basic need: her. More than air, food, shelter, or clothing, I needed her.

I was lost, completely lost without her. I needed her. I needed to be beside her. Anger flared in me with the thought of being held outside of the room where she was lying fighting for her life. I felt the beast rise and take a deep breath reading himself for the fight. The fight to get to her.

I heard Bobby's words echo in my head and it allowed me to push the beast back. I needed to grab hold of the here and now and see the why. I took a deep breath and allowed the anger I had wished for only moments before escape.

I was standing outside of the operating room doors. I had been asked to wait here while others fought to save her. The thoughts of others fighting to save her didn't settle well in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to be the one fighting. I was used to fighting, I knew how to fight and I knew how to win. I knew I would never lose her if I was the one fighting for her. I would never allow her to be taken from me.

I felt the beast rise within me again, I wanted to demand to be let in the room. I wanted to demand to be beside her to fight alongside her but once again Bobby's words echoing in my head allowed me to stand down from my desire to fight. I don't know if it was Bobby's words or what I saw in his face, but I wouldn't risk her life for my stupidity. I had to remember what was the most important and I had figure out how to protect it and fight for it from this side of the door.

In this case, standing down and allowing myself to be separated from her was how I was protecting the most important thing to me. It didn't make me feel good about the fact that I was standing in this god forsaken fucking hallway, but I would do anything to protect her and fight for her.

I tried to feel her, the tingle I felt when she was close, but I felt nothing. I wasn't sure I would be able to feel anything, but I just wanted to feel our connection to know it was still there, that she was still there and still alive.

There was a part of me that wanted to make sure her life was safe by walking away. The arguments had been swimming in my head, my mind repeating all the reasons I held her at arm's length. All the reasons had been solidified by the events of the day, but I couldn't. I knew I would never walk away from her. I couldn't. I was physically incapable of doing it. God help me for my selfishness, but there was no way if she lived through this that would I ever be able to walk away from her.

I closed my eyes, once again fighting the tears I felt, It felt like the weight of the world landed on my shoulders as I shook with desire to just cry out but I wouldn't give in. I knew I would never give in. I didn't give a fuck what others saw, but I just didn't cry. I wouldn't give in to it, not while she was fighting. I would stand tall, be bold and brave, and feed her the strength she needed to come back to me. My lip quivered, but I held strong and true ready to fight.

The longer I stood here, the more my insides felt as though they were being torn apart with guilt, grief, sorrow and pain all mixed and bled together, mixing and combining to the point that I wasn't sure what I felt. I had been use to pain all sorts of pain, but not like this. I felt like my heart was exploding, that it would implode in on itself. The pain ran so deep and sharp through my body leaving a gaping hole of nothingness behind.

I tried to tell myself that the pain wasn't from the possibility of my Babe leaving me, but my mind wouldn't release me from the thoughts that would give me nightmares for years to come.

My soul ached and I felt like I wanted to collapse on the floor in a boneless puddle. I felt as though there was no strength left; I had lost the ability to move. I felt as if I was drowning in the open air. I felt the beast within me try the ropes that bound him, but they held for the moment, though I was not certain they will continue to hold much longer.

The beast within wanted revenge, vengeance, and a reconciliation, but I wasn't able to give it to him. I wasn't able to tear myself away from her. The need to be near her even if it was standing outside in the hall, I couldn't leave. I had to be here fighting for her as much as she was fighting for me, even if it meant my fight was just standing here.

If I were honest, a part of me wanted to run. The part of me that hurt, the part of me that feared the words that I would hear, and the part of me that never wanted to relive this nightmare again, wanted to hide should she survive this. I wanted to believe it was to protect her, I wanted to tell myself it was me doing her the favor of keeping her safe, but I knew it would all be lies. It was all lies to me, and worse, lies to her, but I wasn't strong enough to do that. I could never leave her, even if it was for her own good.

I always thought I would do anything to save her life, but clearly there was something that I wasn't able to do, and that was leaving her.

Guilt poured through me. Regardless of what happened, of who failed to protect her, we all knew who was at fault, where the guilt should reside. It was me that pulled her into Rangeman. It was me who pulled her into our dangerous, devious, evil lives and it was her that paid the price for that. Keeping her with me has been the single most selfish thing I have ever done.

Part of me wanted to go back and erase time, and the other part of me revolted at the thoughts of losing the time I have shared with my Babe. She was my woman. She was my life. She was my air and substance. The thought of her not being by my side made me want to revolt. Made me want to fight and claw to get to her. But the knowledge that my indulgence in all of that threatened the very existence of my life racked my body with a quake that I knew would bring me to my knees.

My lips quivered again with all the crushing thoughts flying through my mind. I would think anyone else was crazy for having their thoughts flop from one side to the other and back so fast that it makes their head spin, but today that man was me.

There was no answer. There was no right choice. I couldn't survive without her and I knew her feelings well enough to know she wouldn't want to survive with me. Again, my body rocked with after-shocks of knowing there was no suitable answer. I felt my lips quiver and I closed my eyes to fight off the tears, but I felt the moisture on my cheek before I was able to cut them off. My body shook with tears, and, for the first time in a long time, I cried. I wanted to pound something, to blame someone, but there was no one and nothing but myself.

The ache in my chest hurt to the point that I wanted to sink to the ground but I remain standing. I wanted to curl in a ball and never unwind, but I remained straight. The pressure from my epiphany lay on my shoulders pushing as though it wanted to press me into the ground, but I remained standing. My legs ached with the added weight, but they held.

I briefly closed my eyes, trying to come to terms with the truth. I knew I would never be strong enough to walk away. I knew I would never convince a building full of men who loved her that it was better for her not to be there. I knew I would never tell her enough for her to understand how important it was for her life that she walks away from me, that she forget about us. I knew that she was no more capable of walking away from me than I was capable of walking away from her.

I wanted to curse and come up with a plan to force her to walk away, but as those thoughts entered my mind, I dismissed them. I could never hurt her. I could never do anything to make her lose her trust in me, to make her question the love I felt for her. I could never do anything on purpose to have my Babe look at me with hurt in her eyes, with me knowing I was to blame.

I felt my love for her roll through my body leaving pain in its wake. I couldn't lose her, I couldn't live without her. I didn't know how to live without her. I wanted to scream and the urge to sob even more was almost overpowering.

My knees shook, but they held me upright. My strength had all but vanished and I felt exhaustion lapping at me. It wouldn't win, it never did. I would remain here until I could see my Babe. I would never leave her, and I sure as fuck wouldn't leave her because I felt the need for sleep.

My body was use to going without, being exhausted and still function. That was Army 101 training and it had only been further ingrained in me with my additional Special Operations training. They had us sit in a room for hours in the dark, with the heat turned up to the point it would lull the strongest to sleep. In some cases, we spent days in that dark, warm room. Those who feel asleep paid for it in extra exercise, public criticism and chores. It only took one time falling asleep to teach you to never drop your guard again.

The thoughts of those days made me almost smile. We thought those days were tough, we thought we would never make it to the end of our training. And some of us didn't make it. What we didn't know and only came to understand after graduating from the program is that those exercises were cakewalks compared to the shit of real life.

Sitting in a fucking jungle where humidity and heat beat on you for days, exhausting your body to the point that you wanted to fucking drop and yet you knew you couldn't was much worse than sitting in a safe little room. Not only was the enemy after you, but there were things in the jungle you needed to be aware of. Sleeping on the jungle floor came with its own set of consequences and dangers.

The desert had its own hazards as well. Trying being dropped in the middle of a desert, only sand hills and valleys of sand, with no cover and no land markings, yet there were dangers that lurked outside of the enemy. The heat of the day versus the cold of the night left even the most seasoned solider ill-prepared.

None of our training really prepared us for the real life scenarios, but they came closer than no training. What our training did was give us an automatic response. When in danger, you killed the threat. It gave us survival skills so we were able to survive the worst of environments. It caused a bonding that stretched beyond that of a common goal. It taught us how to rely on each other and work together. It made us, at minimum, a team and, at most, brothers.

What it didn't do was prepare you or train you for what I was facing now. It didn't train me how to survive if I lost her. It didn't teach me how go on, how to go forward. It didn't teach me to control or ignore the feelings of loss, hurt and pain from the real possibility of her having been taken from me. The pain in me ached to lash out at anyone and anything I could.

I saw her lying on the sidewalk, blood pouring from her body while Slyder and Lester worked to save her life, and my life felt like it ended. I felt my feet root into place, I felt my knees shake as I stood there taking in the scene, and I wasn't sure what hit me at first or hit the hardest. My knees felt as though they would buckle and my voice burned with fire as the scream wanted to burst through, but none of that happened. My body just froze, fear grabbed ahold of me and jerked me off my feet, causing my chest to constrict to the point that pain exploded throughout.

Thoughts of her needing me broke me free and allowed me to move to her side. I prayed to see her eyes, but they weren't opened. I prayed to hear her voice, but that didn't happen. The others just continued to work on her as my mind seemed frozen in time. Prayers, wishes, and hopes would bubble to the surface only to fizzle out to the pain and not come to full fruition.

I went through the motions that had brought me to the hallway outside the operating room, and I couldn't really tell you everything that had happened from the one point until now. I was certain that nothing had changed with my condition, and later tonight, I wouldn't know anything else past my Babe. I couldn't think of anything but her. The need to be beside her was almost unbearable, and, on more than one occasion, I had debated breaking down the door to find her, but so far I had somehow managed to refrain.

Maybe it was Bobby's words echoing in my head that stopped me. She didn't have time, she had lost too much blood, and the medical staff needed all of their focus and concentration to work on her. I was not certain as my thoughts and feelings were all one big bundle of pain slicing through me as though a samara sword had cut me half.

I felt a presence and I knew I wasn't alone before anyone came into my field of vision. I felt my body coil and become alert ready to strike. I hadn't felt this alert since the days I had spent in earth's many hells: jungles, deserts, and fucking mountains. I felt the beast within me rise to the threat, ready and willing to defend my Babe. She was somewhere behind the doors where I stood. To get to her, they would need to go through me, and I knew that would be only if I were dead.

I sensed hesitation and I sensed a submission. The beast within me retreated enough for the man within to understand that there was no threat. My eyes locked on the intruder. Slyder had come down the hallway towards me. Before he reached me, he veered to the opposite wall, somehow sensing my need for space.

I acknowledged that he was here, but I didn't speak, I didn't think I could, nor did I want to. I wanted answers and I would get them in time, but now there was something more important. My Babe needed me here with her. I pushed my love out to her knowing she wouldn't be able to feel it, but trying would at least appease me for now.

I felt my lip start to quiver, but I stopped it. I focused on the man in front of me and allowed the guard in me to take over, protecting the woman of my dreams. I was fighting for her and giving her my strength so she could fight and come back to me.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_

_I hope you all have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend…my thoughts and prayers have been with those in Moore, Oklahoma the strength and resiliency from the people of the devastated communities is all-inspiring. _


	7. Chapter 7

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds! _

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. _

_My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar, your patience is much appreciated! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you completely make my day! _

**Chapter 7:**

**BPOV**

Finally! I am anxious, nervous and twitchy, but at least I no longer feel lost. My girl pulled through. She is a fighter, I had always known that, but the surgeons were able to repair her lung, her heart and her collarbone while keeping her heart beating.

She wasn't out of the woods yet, there were still a lot of unknowns. We had no idea if she would wake up, and if she were to wake up, what state her mind would be in. We had no idea how much damage her brain may have suffered from lack of oxygen. We had no idea how the damage to her heart and lungs would affect her. Oddly, the two that should be the most severe were taking a back burner to other unknowns.

If she were to wake now, the level of pain she would be in would be high. There was a debate amongst the doctors about putting her in an induced comma to allow her body to heal more before allowing her to wake up.

In the end, the argument for leaving her in a medically-induced comma won. I wasn't sure which side I was on as there were advantages and disadvantages to both. Allowing her to wake up would at least tell us if she was going to wake up and what state her mind was in, which would set some of my fears to rest.

However, having her awake and seeing her in pain was something that none of us would be able to handle well. Ranger would lose his shit if he saw her in that amount of pain and we had to tell him that the doctors couldn't do anything to help her. Those two facts alone had me voting for the induced coma.

I knew explaining this to Ranger and the guys was going to be complicated. They would have questions that we aren't able to answer right now. They would demand answers, and they wouldn't tolerate the fact that we didn't know and would have to wait for the answers.

I scrubbed my hand over my face. To say I was exhausted wasn't even close to how I was feeling. I would be here as long as she needed me, but I was spent. I was crashing from the adrenaline rush and the emotional roller coaster ride of a lifetime. I knew these feelings, it wasn't the first time I had felt this, but it was the first time I had felt them this intensely.

I watched as the surgeon placed the last of the stitches on the inside of her skin, layered the skin back in place and then applied the glue. I knew that would help with scaring but I also knew that she would forever have a scar. I just hoped it would be the only scar left as a reminder of the day. It's not like any of us needed a reminder of this fucking day, we would never forget it.

Fuck, most of us would have nightmares about this fucking day for months, if not years. I knew Ranger had already had nightmares about it prior to this day ever happening. He had told us. Well, he told Tank, who then told us. It was one of only a couple times Tank went outside of what Ranger would have considered his confidence. In the end, it didn't matter because before we could intervene, Ranger had already come around to making Stephanie a part of our lives.

She had adapted to our lives and she had become one of us long before Ranger ever claimed her. I had patched her up more times that I could count, the guys had bailed her out of one trouble or another, and we even tailed her and tried to keep her safe even when our help wasn't wanted.

Images of every close call flashed through my mind. The sight of her lying on her back or stomach at one of many car explosions, the sight of her bleeding where she fell or some son of a bitch cut her, I could see it all in my mind's eye. I had to shake my head to clear those images, and sent a thank you to God for keeping her safe in all those times.

I was so happy the day she decided she wanted training. I am so proud of how hard she worked, how dedicated she was and how determined she was to be better. She was determined she was going to be Rangeman good. Just the thought of that made my chest swell with pride.

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to be able to tell her how proud I was of her the day she climbed that fucking wall all on her own, the day she swung across the mud puddle and landed on her feet on the other side, and the day she took out her targets on the firing range. I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her on the day she missed all the innocents and tagged all the bad guys. The list was endless of all the moments that I was so proud of her for.

In the final test we put her through, she was able to rescue Ranger, eliminate any threats and get to her destination. She used her training and her knowledge of us, and she had been completely successful in her mission.

In the paintball exercise, she used her knowledge of each of us to our disadvantage to take us out one at a time. I had to smile at the reminder that the men of Rangeman need additional training. We had become predictable. Predictable would get us killed. It took a beautiful woman who didn't know how to lose to show us just how predictable we were and just how good she was.

If she could find our vulnerability, then surely so could our enemies. The only advantage we had was the fact that or enemies didn't live long enough to understand our movements or tell tales about the battlefield. They never got a chance to use our weaknesses against us.

"We are ready to move her to recovery," one of the surgeons said, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the operating room. I nodded my head, letting him know I am ready. I would go with her, get her settled and then go back for Ranger. I felt bad leaving her, but I also felt bad leaving Ranger wondering any longer than necessary.

"Let me be the one that tells the guys about her status. They won't understand your reasoning, they will have questions and they won't be so easy going to accept a 'we don't know' for some of the questions," I stated to everyone in the room, yet no one person in particular.

I saw relief wash over at least a couple of the people and I almost smiled. I wouldn't get any complaints from any of them. "I will go get Ranger and let him sit with her in Recovery while I fill the guys in," I told them.

I wondered if I would get any push back with Ranger joining us in the recovery room, but no one spoke up. He would be happy to be beside her. Being able to see her would calm him and allow him to control the rage within.

I walked beside her to the recovery room and waited, watching carefully while they got her hooked up to the necessary monitors. Even though they are going to keep her in a coma, she still needed to come to recovery before going to the ICU, where she would stay until they woke her up and for at least a while after she woke.

I knew it was something they would agree to, but I needed to clear a guard at her door. We would never leave her in the hospital, including the more restrictive ICU area, unprotected. I would ask the unit manager as soon as the nurses were done getting her settled. However, first, I would go get Ranger to have him sit with her.

"She is going to be okay," one of the nurses spoke up trying to calm me down. I look at her, accessing her. I didn't need her telling me that she was going to be okay, something she couldn't promise, but I appreciated her failed attempt to make me feel better. I nodded and gave her a tight lip smile that said thanks but I know you can't promise me that.

She continued checking her and taking note of her vitals. Everything looked as good as it could considering what she had been through. I sent a small prayer up hoping they would continue to be answered. I yearned to see those eyes and hear her voice, and I could only pray that I would sooner rather than later get the chance.

"I am going to go get her fiancé so he can sit with her while I get some other things in place," I tell her and she nods at me, letting me know she heard me.

"Please do not leave this room until one of us has returned. I don't want her by herself, not for a second," I added, letting her hear the seriousness in my voice. She pauses and looks up at me so I can see her answer in her eyes.

"I am not going to leave her," she said. I nod, letting her know I got her message loud and clear. I turn and head off in search of Ranger.

**RPOV**

I felt as if I had been standing in this hallway forever but I knew exactly how long I had been standing here. I knew I had been standing in this position exactly three hours, twenty-two minutes, and fifty-two seconds give or take a second or two on either side.

I also knew that in that time, twenty-two people had passed down the hall. I knew that three of them had passed me two times, and one of them had been up and down the hall a total of five times. I also knew that there were five nurses who passed me, three doctors, and two people who were medical students.

I also knew that ten of the people had either been crying or were crying out loud. I watched three husbands or significant others attempt to console their women.

I didn't need my watch to know the time. It was just something I knew, courtesy of Uncle Sam. If I was a man of less control, I would have worn a hole in the floor; as is, I just stood here in on spot looking stoic. Inside, I was anxious for news on how she was doing and when I could see her, but on the outside I was solid as stone.

Slyder had been standing across the hall from me, but had gotten called away to donate blood for my Babe. Those were the only words that passed between us. My emotions were so torn, and I wanted it to be my blood her body needed. Fuck, I would have given her every God damn drop I had, but my type wasn't the type she needed.

Slyder was O negative, like my Babe, so he was able to donate his blood. I was grateful he was here to give, but, being truthful, I was a little jealous it wasn't mine. He came back after his donation and had taken up his stance across from me. He didn't stare at me, he just made a habit of keeping his eyes on other things in the hallway. On the occasion when someone walked up the hallway, I sensed him going on alert.

I wasn't sure if it was in a response to my body hardening, but my mind also sharpened to the point of a fine blade upon their approach. I sensed his body coiling for action, but I wasn't sure if it was in attempt to protect me or protect whoever it was walking up the hallway towards me, but regardless of reason, I appreciated the thought. My thoughts had gone back to my Babe when the doors opened and Brown walked out.

At first glance, I felt as though my knees were going to give and I would crumple to the ground, but I held tight and remained upright. I didn't say anything, and I didn't move other than the turn of my head. If I allowed my legs to move, I knew I would no longer be standing.

Seeing the lightness in his eyes, which I knew wouldn't be there if the news was bad, gave me the ability to allow air in through my nose to fill my lungs. It also gave me the ability to push out the old used air through my mouth. I felt my eyelids briefly close and I felt the weight slightly lift off my shoulders.

"Ranger, she is in recovery. I know you are going to have lots of questions, but for now, just know that they are keeping her in a medically-induced comma at least for a few days. We don't know right now what the full extent of her injuries are. The bullet that hit her iPod shattered it in pieces, some of the pieces hit her lungs, and a piece hit her heart. That is why she wasn't breathing and her heart had stopped at the scene. All of the damage has been repaired. Her lung had collapsed, but that too has been repaired. She is still in critical condition, so she will be moved to the Intensive Care Unit when she leaves recovery," Bobby stated while my mind was reeling hard to keep up and understand everything he was saying.

"You can go back and sit with her in recovery so long as you promise to stay out of the way of the nurses that are caring for her. It is important that they keep monitor of her vitals. Tracking her vitals will tell us if there is a problem with the surgery and if she is bleeding internally," he continued, and I nodded letting him know I understood. However, I was ready to move as soon as I heard I could sit with her.

"They will force you out if you get in their way. Let them care for her the way they can. I will be back there as soon as I can. I am going to go fill in the guys and get her the protection she needs setup with the hospital. I guess it goes without saying that the guys will be standing outside her door," I looked at him, holding back the comment that was on the tip of my tongue.

I didn't have the strength to tell him what I wanted and I feared the way my voice would sound. Right now, I needed to remain in control, and the only way to do that was by remaining quiet.

He motioned for me to follow him and I prayed my legs would allow me to walk. The moment I willed my legs to move, I felt the ache of every muscle that had held me upright, straight, and still. I wanted to cave to the ache, but my Babe needed me and I would never let her down by not being beside her when I could.

The thought of seeing her had my legs surging forward, my stride elongating with every step closer. I had questions, but I didn't trust my voice enough to ask. Regardless of the answers, I would be there for her, so right now, the questions could wait. The most important thing was for me to get to my Babe.

When I came into the recovery area and made my way to her alcove, I couldn't wait to be beside her. My stomach fluttered with nerves the closer I got. I could tell by the way my skin tingled and the hairs on my neck stood as if to get my attention that she was near me. I welcomed the feeling of her as it caressed my body in a familiar tickle.

Stepping behind the curtained area, I couldn't help the feeling of relief along with the feeling of disappointment that her eyes weren't open and that she wasn't smiling at me and telling me that it had taken me long enough. Looking at her lying in that hospital bed, she looked so small, helpless, and defenseless, but I knew better. I knew how strong she was, I knew how hard she had fought. I could feel it. She had fought hard to come back to me.

A picture flashed in my head of her standing in front of a heavenly figure, her strong hands on her hips, her teeth gritted, and her head tilted in that little way that spoke to her level of commitment to the decision she had made. I had seen that look from her enough to know that she would win regardless of who she faced. I found myself almost chuckling at the picture and my heart jumped within my chest.

My vision focused back on her small frame lying so still. I wasn't sure if it was the bed and the tubes sticking in her that dwarfed her size, but I couldn't get over how small she appeared to me. I registered the nurse sitting in the corner with a tablet in her hand. She was keying information into a program.

I instinctively went to the opposite side of her bed and pulled the chair closer. I grabbed her hand as I sat down beside her. Careful not to disturb any of the tubing, I held her hand, stroking the backside of her hand with my thumb. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so much she needed to hear from me, but I couldn't speak, at least not right now.

I couldn't say anything while the nurse could overhear and not while my throat was so tight air was barely making it through. She needed to be able to hear me when I told her what I needed to tell her. She needed to be able to look in my eyes and hear me.

A calming sigh left my lips as I registered the beat of her heart through one of the machine and the sounds of her breathing. She looked as though she was just sleeping, and that brought a sense of calm. For the first time since her panic button had gone off, I was able to relax slightly.

"Ranger, I am going to go and tell the guys how she is doing and fill them in on what we know at this point. Do you want me to tell them anything for you?" Bobby asked me and I shook my head no. I really didn't have anything to tell them. They would carry on with what was needed. They would do their jobs, they would watch over her, and I could concentrate on the most important thing in my life, my Babe.

I pushed her hair back from her face and ran my fingers down her cheek and across her jaw line. I felt the tears well up, but they didn't fall. I couldn't help but think how close I had come to losing her. The thoughts came crashing through me like a bad nightmare, only this nightmare was one that you weren't able to wake up from and realize it hadn't actually happened, that it was just a dream. This nightmare was real.

I was no stranger to nightmares or PTSD. Fuck, if you were in the military, you knew about this shit and how real it was, but this was probably the first time in my life that something would give me nightmares for years to come that didn't happen during a mission in some fucked up hell hole on earth.

I wondered if I was really cut out for this. Was I strong enough to withstand a relationship where I couldn't bear to lose my other half? Was I able to withstand watching her live a dangerous life without becoming insane to the point of locking her up and never letting her out of my sight? She would never agree to live that life. She would never want that life for herself. Would I be brave enough to allow her to live the life she wanted the way she wanted?

I couldn't answer the questions that my brain was firing at me faster than I could process. I shook my head to clear it as I tried to refocus on her, but every time I looked at her, I could only hear the questions echoing in my head.

Could I be the man she needed me to be?

I already knew what I wanted to do and I wondered how long it would be that I could hold these feelings, wants and desires back to allow her the life she wanted. She wanted to be a Rangeman, to work beside us with us, and I wanted her safe, secure, and protected. I couldn't see a way to have both, especially not after today.

I wasn't ready to allow her life to be in danger again ever, yet I couldn't take her happiness and dreams from her by locking her up to keep her safe. I couldn't help but feel that in this situation, I was totally fucked.

I held tight to her hand as a placed my forehead against our joined hands. I still wasn't able to speak, my throat shaking from the inside as I felt my lip quiver once again. I was lost to the possibilities, the 'what ifs' and the 'could bes', and I was in a place I never wanted to be with my thoughts.

Prior to having her in my life, my life made sense, it was predictable, it was rational, and it was without fear. But, it was without her. Fuck, I wanted to scream. Every turn felt as though it was a fucking dead-end. There was always that catch.

Now, with Stephanie in my life, it would never be that way again. I would fear for her safety, for her. I would make decisions that went against my core wishes, I would do things that went against my rational mind all for her, just to keep her in my life, to keep her happy, and to fulfill the her dreams. My life would no longer make sense, it would no longer be predictable or rational, and I would learn to be okay with it just to have her.

The alternative wasn't something I could handle, it wasn't something I could withstand. Without her, I may as well not have a life, be it rational or predictable. I am not certain when Stephanie became the Alpha and Omega in my life, but she had, and that was the most important piece to understand.

I rubbed my cheek along-side her hand, feeling her hand pressing into my cheek even if it was by the strength of my own hand; this calming touch allowed me find my center and calmed my terrors. I closed my eyes and savored the moment for as long as I could.

I wanted to breathe her in, but I knew I wouldn't smell her. I would smell the operating room, the hospital, the dirty curb of the street, none of which was my Babe: peaches and cream and a summer's rain.

Feeling the need to talk to her, I opened and closed my mouth several times as if trying to work my jaw and mouth in a way to form words, but nothing came. After a few failed attempts, I was finally able to make a sound.

"B….," I started to say but my voice croaked as if I was afraid, and the sound died on a wobble before I cleared my throat as best I could to make a second attempt.

"Babe, I am here. I have you. You are safe. I have you. I don't know if you can hear me, but I am here beside you and I am not going to leave your side until I can take you home with me. I need you to fight, I need you to heal, I need you to wake up and come back to me," I said as I found myself on the verge of begging her.

I cleared my voice again and with a voice barely above the level of a silent whisper, spoke again. "I love you, Babe. I need you, you need to wake up and come back to me," I told her. I felt my lip quiver and I knew talking would become even harder as I felt my cheek become damp from the tears that leaked out. I quickly wiped it away with her hand as I moved my forehead against her hand to further inhale her essence. I needed her touch. I needed her hand, the feeling of me holding her.

"Sir," I heard the voice before I registered the woman had moved from her chair. My body went on instant alert and I had to talk myself down from sudden movements that would have the nurse on the ground with me holding her throat in my hand.

I looked up at her and I saw the hesitation in her eyes, the fear of uncertainty. I raised my eyebrow as I tried to soften some of my facial expressions.

"I…uhm….I need to get a reading off of the machine behind you," she pointed to the machine behind me and I quickly looked to where she pointed before I stood and pushed the chair out of her way. I didn't leave my Babe's side, but I gave her enough room to walk behind me and get the reading she needed.

She was cautious, but she must have decided she was safe and decided to cross behind me to get the reading. She didn't linger, she got her reading and returned to her side of the room. I would have smiled under different circumstances, but today wasn't the day to smile. I could hear Stephanie's voice in my head telling me that I should apologize for intimidating her and my lip twitched.

Again, I would have smiled if I had been anywhere else. I pushed my lips to her hand to let her know I had heard her loud and clear even though I know she couldn't have seen what happened or spoken those words.

Once the nurse retreated back to her seat to record her vitals, I pulled the seat closer to the bed and once again sat down holding her hand to my slightly damp cheek.

**LPOV**

I had been standing in this fucking waiting room longer than I wanted. I felt like a caged animal. Between the feelings of guilt, the worry, and the hatred for that fucking prick of a cop who had to come in here running is mouth, I was ready to hit the fucking roof.

I feel the itch as my skin crawled. I want to leave the room. I want to get away from the stares of friends who I know are just waiting to hear the story. They need to know why, but the words wouldn't come. I had told them she took the bullet meant for me, but I couldn't come up with any other words. Words would invade my mind, but then just die before they could come out.

There were no good explanations and I knew it. I wanted to chase that fucking prick cop, Morelli, down and kill him. I wanted to rip his head from shoulders, scream at him about what a liar he was, but it was the truth. Because of me, she was in here. Because she wanted to protect me instead of allowing me to protect her, she was hurt.

More than anything, I hated that her actions had made him right. Anger boiled through me, all centered on the fact that her actions had made him right. I couldn't blame him, I couldn't accuse him of the liar I knew him to be, the asshole I knew him to be, the fucking coward he was, because she had gotten hurt because of me.

It should have been me, that bullet was meant for me, not her. Why couldn't she had just stayed behind me, stayed safe and let me take the fucking bullet? The guilt and the rage wash over me and I briefly wonder if I would ever get over being mad at her.

More guilt flooded my system with my dark thoughts. I was ready to lash out again when the doors opened and Bobby walked through. At the first sight of him, my heart stopped. Why would he leave her? Had something happened to her? I felt my head moving side to side as if on its own, the panic rising in my chest as the voice in my head was screaming no.

The room became blurry as my head moved faster and faster. With each swipe it got faster and faster. I felt the sweat break out all over at once across my face, forehead, back, hands and arms, all at the sight of him. Fear chocked me as I waited for what he was going to say.

I saw the look of pity, I saw the look of caution, I saw the look of concern and I felt myself further losing control. I heard the word 'no' over and over, but I couldn't figure out who was talking. Bobby's lips had not yet moved.

He raised his hands to me and his mouth opened and closed, he was saying something, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. The blood pumping in my ears was too loud because I knew he was going to say: she was gone. I had lost my best friend, the only woman I would ever love even though she wasn't mine to love. I knew that my Beautiful was gone.

Bobby's hands moved up and down against my arms in the universal attempt to calm me down and my body calmed slightly at this. I found myself breathing in deep, holding for a few seconds, and breathing out slowly, further calming my reactions, and then I was able to take in sounds of the room around me.

Slyder walked in the door a few seconds behind Bobby. Jealousy slammed into me with the thought of him being able to see her before me, and I wanted to take my frustration out on his face. It was only when I looked at him and I could see the concern and the attention he was showing Bobby that it registered he hadn't seen her. He didn't know how she was, he was waiting just as we were.

I was just about to shift my frustration to Bobby and tell him to stop fucking stalling when he began talking.

"She is out of surgery. Right now she is in recovery. She suffered damage to her heart, lungs, and collar bone," he said, taking a moment to take a breath and let his words wash over us and filter through our thick skulls.

"The bullet hit her iPod, shattering it however shards from the iPod lodged in her lung and heart. The bullet shattered her collar bone and also hit her lung. The damage has been repaired and her heart is beating on its own. They have a machine that is helping her breathing while her lung starts to heal. Because of the pain and how uncomfortable the tubing is, it was decided to keep her in a medically-induced coma. I am not certain how long, but it could be up to two weeks," he said and then paused again for the information to filter through.

I closed my eyes at the thoughts of what she had gone through and all she will have to go through because of me. I would have gladly died to prevent every second of the pain she will have to endure.

Before I opened my eyes, he continued, "they are going to be moving her to the Intensive care unit. We will have at least one person and probably two standing at her door. No one gets in unless they are approved. Right now, the approved will be those providing her care, her doctors, and Rangeman," he states and I nodded in full agreement.

She wouldn't want her family or anyone else from the burg gaining access to her room. I hate it that the nurses giving her care have the potential to gossip about her, but at least there are laws that are supposed to prevent that from happening.

Not that I am dumb enough to believe everyone follows the laws at all times, because I know they don't. I know they will talk, if they get a chance, but it is our job to ensure they don't, and if they do, they are taken care of according to the law starting with them losing their job.

"What we don't know is the long-term effects of her injuries. We don't know if she suffered brain damage, we don't even know once we stop the medically-induced coma she will wake up," he stated and my heart jumped with fear in my chest. My feet felt the need to move, but I remained rigid, straight, standing with my feet glued to the floor.

"We will know more in time, but right now, it is important to know that she is fighting, she is living and hopefully she will recover from this and be home with us soon," he continued, and I knew it was for the benefit of everyone standing in this room waiting on any information concerning her well-being.

The atmosphere in the waiting room slightly lifted with the new information, giving us additional hope, but it still felt tight and closed with worry of the unknown. There had yet to be the sigh of relief wash through the room, and I doubted it will come until Beautiful opened her eyes and spoke to us.

Before Bobby left, I find my voice. I am not sure I am able, but I can't seem to not ask the question I am desperate to know the answer to. "Can we see her?" I asked.

He nods his head, but he added a caveat quickly. "Once she has been moved to ICU, we will be able to see her. No more than two in the room at any given time, and no more than twenty minutes at any one time," he tells us. We all nod, feeling glad that we will be able to see her and possibly touch her.

I know for me it is an affirmation that she is in fact okay, that she is going to be okay, or at least we hope she will be when she wakes up. I still question if I will be able to step in her room when the time comes, but for now I will take comfort in the fact that I know she is living and recovering from the surgery.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_


	8. Chapter 8

_I want to first say the reception this story has received has blown me away! I love that you all are excited the journey has begun and it is my deepest hope that you all continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds! _

_I do have some very important people to thank. One Margaret, you have always been my biggest fan, from the very beginning. You took me in under your wing and supported my story, supported my crazy ideas, and even batted around ideas with me when I felt stuck. I can't tell you enough how much that meant to me as a new author (yeah I am giving myself a lot of leeway in that title) here on fanfiction. In addition to that your friendship has meant the world to me. Barbara and Karrie you both are great friends ones I am so glad to say I have met because of fanfiction. My life is richer because of you two. _

_My beta, Angela, this wouldn't be what it is without you. Your edits, ideas, and suggestions have been wonderful! I know I am hopeless when it comes to grammar, your patience is much appreciated! Finally my fans who have sent me private messages, left reviews you completely make my day! _

**Chapter 8**

**LPOV**

I had been lost in my thoughts for about an hour before Bobby came back to tell us that Beautiful had been moved to the Intensive Care Unit. The words barely left his lips before everyone was heading towards the door in search of the floor the unit resided on.

He stopped us at the door saying, "guys, I meant what I said. Only two allowed at a time and no more than twenty minutes." His voice was calm, but we all heard the warning. If we didn't obey the rules, he would personally kick our asses out the hospital room.

I felt my head nod before I realized it was moving. Since when was I the man who just fucking gave in and did what he was told? In the Army, I had to be that man, but at Rangeman, I wasn't always known to follow the rules. I couldn't help but wonder, when had I become the submissive puppy to Brown? The answer easy, when it involved Beautiful's care, that's when.

I shook my head, not being able to help to wonder that if Beautiful could see me now, what would she think and say about this? There was no acting out today, no rebelling, and no trying to go against the rules to get my way. Typically, the challenge would have been to keep me out of her room. Fuck, today I would be doing well if I could step in her room, let alone stay twenty minutes.

Uneasiness crawled across me along with the thoughts of how I would react upon seeing her. I closed my eyes to try to get a better grip on my feelings. Deep down, I knew what I should do and how I should feel, but I was so mad, furious even, and I doubted my ability to do it.

Bobby stepped aside from the door to let us through as we made our way to the stairs. On the stairs, Tank caught up beside me.

"I trust you handled that situation in the parking garage," he stated, and I felt myself almost wince at the memory. I hadn't thought about that fucking vehicle or the owner. Part of me wanted to get shitty with him and tell him that I had more important things on my mind, but I kept my mouth shut and didn't grant his statement a reply.

"Man, that car belongs to someone, and they are going to be more than surprised when they go to leave and find their car bashed in. I suggest you try to find them before they find the car," he said and once again, I found my head nodding in agreement without my permission. I knew he was right, I just didn't want to deal with it.

I didn't want to think about that fucking car. I had other things to think about. I had other things going through my head, like if I would be able to step in Beautiful's room and look at her without wanting to rip into her for how stupid it was for her to jump in front of me.

How would I ever be able to look at her and say thank you for saving my life when it endangered hers? I knew I would never be able to say those words, and part of me felt as though they were words that needed to be spoken. I wanted to fucking yell at how torn my emotions were; my anger, fear, hope, and stress, all of it exhausted me.

Stepping on the floor, we all paused at the Intensive Care Unit doors. They were locked to the public, the only way to get into the unit was to have the doors opened or carry a special badge to unlock the door. It had become apparent, at least for the short term that we would be camping in the open area just off of the elevators labeled for staff. Scanning the area, we had certainly camped out in worse areas.

Bobby spoke up first. "We will have two men to stand outside her door within the unit. You need to keep out of the way of the nurses and her doctors, and anyone on the unit tending to other patients or any visitors. We are also going to post two men outside the main ICU doors, just to make sure no one gets onto the unit unless we want them to," he explained. I nod this time in full agreement of his words.

I knew that he wouldn't be in short supply of volunteers, but I also knew that I would be one of the two men at her door within the unit. I wouldn't allow anyone else to be there without me. I may not be ready to look at her or talk to her, but I was ready to give my life for her. I was always ready to protect her or die trying.

"I will take her door within the unit," I said, and Bobby nodded looking as though he fully expected me to take that position. Cal volunteered to be the other man at the door of her room. Vince and Zip volunteered to be the men at the entrance of the ICU unit.

I knew that Slyder would be my replacement and Tank would be Cal's. Bobby went on to tell us that we would pull twelve-hour shifts just like the nurses within the unit. He further explained the nurses who worked the same shifts wouldn't have to worry about us switching out and would hopefully become more comfortable working around us.

Tank and I had the first shift and Cal and Slyder were given the second shift. No one cared what shift they worked, only that they were able to protect her. We all knew Ranger would be in the room with her, so there was no getting to her. No one would get through the layers of protection we had in place to harm her.

Bobby walked the first of the visitors in to see her, and while part of me wanted to be the one to go, I remained on the outside layer of the men, distancing myself from the selection. Once Bobby had escorted Cal and Tank into the area to see her, I relaxed a moment to gather my thoughts.

I really needed to come to grips with my feelings, but I couldn't get over being mad at her. Every time I thought about why we were here, why she was in there, anger boiled through me. I didn't want to feel this way towards her, but I honestly couldn't stop the feelings from assaulting me with every reminder.

I had been standing outside her door for what felt like forever. I hadn't gone in to see her. I knew she wasn't awake and part of me argued what was the big deal if I didn't go in to see her since it wasn't like she would have known, after all, she wasn't awake. I tried to tell myself because she wasn't awake it was okay that I stood outside the door without going in.

I knew the argument was weak at best, and at most it called me out for what a piece of fucking shit I was for not going in and seeing her. I kept telling myself I would in a few minutes, after the guys had a chance to see her, but I knew it was just the chicken shit piece of myself that didn't want to have to look at her while I was still so fucking mad at her. I didn't need anything else to add to the guilt I was already feeling.

I wanted to blame her for me not having the balls to face her, but I knew it wasn't her fault. I knew this was all on me. But I couldn't get past blaming her for taking the bullet, which meant it was all her fucking fault.

I blew out a sigh of frustration and I felt Tank's eyes cut over to me, but he didn't need to tell me I already knew what he was going to say. I already knew what he thought of me and my actions, he had made that clear. It was clear he thought I was shit for being mad at her. It was clear he thought I was a pussy for not walking into her room. It was also clear he thought I was a complete fucktard for blaming her instead of putting the blame where it belonged; me.

What he didn't know was what it felt like to have the woman of your dreams life endangered because she protected you instead of letting you do your job as a man and protect her.

He didn't know what that felt like, he hadn't lived that. He had never failed to protect her, he happened to break his fucking leg when one of her skips tried to jump off the roof and landed on him. However, he succeeded in his job of protecting her, the skip hadn't landed on Stephanie and broken her leg.

I briefly wondered how the fuck Tank would have felt had he failed and the skip landed on her and broke her leg. Part of me hated thinking about it because it involved Beautiful being hurt, but the other part of me wondered if Tank would have handled it nonchalantly as he wanted me to. What if she had pushed him out of the way, and the skip landed on her instead of him, would he have been as okay with that, as he wanted me to be?

Fuck, even during our first assignment with her, the redecorating job, Tank took a bullet to the chest. She was sleeping on the floor at the time, so I don't know how much of that was him protecting her or him just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the bullet hit his vest instead of her chest. I label that as success on his part to protect her. Had he not allowed her to lie down, everything could have been different. Of course, that didn't prevent her playing a piece in blowing a hole in the side of the building, but that hadn't been her doing. We soon came to understand it was just the type of shit that happened to her, or I should say happened around her.

I am not sure Tank would have been able to prevent that shit from happening. That was solely between the psycho resident and drugged out pimp wanna-be Unabomber with Beautiful stuck in the middle. I shook my head, trying to clear the images of her and all her near misses.

We at Rangeman used to not believe all of the situations she got herself in, and, in the beginning, we would volunteer to shadow her just so we could have front row seats. You just couldn't make up some of the shit that happened to her. The messes she found herself in and around sometimes shocked the most seasoned of us.

We all wondered in those first few weeks what was Ranger's and her deal. We had never seen him act the way he did over any other woman. I had known him all of our lives, and he never acted that way over his first wife. Of course, that was more of a responsibility thing versus a love thing. No woman had ever affected him the way Beautiful did. I still can't believe how she came to be a part of our lives.

Beautiful was fucking white bread, born and raised in the traditions of the burg. She had not a clue what it meant to be a bounty hunter out tracking down criminals. Even after being told, she had no idea of the real dangers of the field. There wasn't any way for her to know, yet it never deterred her from her goal of getting her man. To say she was wet behind the ears was even putting it mildly, and yet Ranger never faltered to encourage her by telling her he was proud of her.

There was a point in time when I wanted to kick his ass for that. Before he manned up and claimed her for himself, he put word out on the seedier sides of town that she was his woman and anyone who harmed her would deal with him, but that only helped a little after they learned what it meant to deal with Ranger. He also threated Vinnie to keep the hardcore cases away from her, but that wasn't without its own faults as there were sometimes connections that just weren't seen until it was too fucking late.

I had to shake my head as images of Abruzzi, Constantine, Cone, and the Slayers played like a slide show through my mind. So many times when she could have been snatched away from us and somehow, she managed to scrape by with just a scratch here or there. The worst injury before now was a bullet in the butt prior to us ever meeting.

Ranger was right, though, she did have a knack for solving a crime. She had a way of looking at the same pieces we all looked at and yet arranged them in a different manner that sometimes only made sense to her. Yet her way always managed to lead us to the bad guys.

In the very beginning, we would have a good laugh at some of the things that happened. And we all had things happen we would never live down, like Cal passing out while Valerie was giving birth. All the shit that big tough sea dog had seen, and he passes out from seeing a woman give birth; fucking lightweight. Eric getting pounced on by Lula, my only regret there was that I wasn't there to see that first hand. The classic one was Hal getting tasered by his own stun gun. I almost felt my lips curl in a smile as the different thoughts of the guys flowed through my mind.

It wasn't long after she came into our lives that something shifted and with every disaster that came her way, it started scaring the shit out of us. The more vested in our lives she became, the more it scared us every time one of her near misses happened. Hearing her panic button sound off or seeing her car disappear from our GPS tracking would stop our hearts, send us into an almost panic to ensure her safety, and have all of us scrambling to see that she was okay, rescue her from whatever was happening, or whomever had taken her.

I guess at that point, you could say it got real for us. We knew what we had and we knew what we would lose if something happened to her. None of us were willing to live with something happening to her. We would all give everything we have to prevent losing her, including our lives.

For most of us, we had money, thanks to Uncle Sam for all the highly paid, dangerous 'off of the books' missions, and to Rangeman for the success of such a well-run company that we all played a part in. However, that wasn't important to us. None of us, including Ranger, had things that we valued more than our job, more than our function in this world, than to make it better place for the innocents, at least, none of us did until we all fell for her.

Beautiful was more important than all of it. It wasn't just Ranger who felt this way because of the way he loved her. We all did. In some way, we had all come to depend on her, love her and need her. For many of us, she held our humanity, protected our sanity, and refilled our life with a purpose that was for the greater good.

With the passing thoughts of her near misses, I wondered how many years of my life have been shaved off because all of the times Beautiful had scared the shit out of me. I was pretty sure that I had used up all my nine lives on her. Of course, if I add to that times in the military, I was well over my nine lives quota. Maybe there is something to be said for Hell not wanting you.

Heaven would never accept me, and it was looking more like Hell didn't want me, so that leaves me here with my friends and family - brothers from a different mother, and a sister from a different mister. I could definitely live with that so long as she could live as well. There was only one problem with this scenario, that there would come a time when Heaven would want her. She was good, she was pure, and there was no doubt Heaven would want her a hell of a lot sooner than Hell would ever want us. That would be the day I would no longer be in agreement with Heaven or Hell's arrangement.

I was lost in my thoughts, when a nurse came running into the ICU with tears streaming down her colorless ashen face. I briefly wondered if the number of men in the hallway outside of the door scared her, but I knew none of us would intentionally scare her. None of us liked seeing a woman cry. My eyes locked on her and she was almost to the level of a full-blown panic attack, her breath coming in shortened huffs, her eyes wide, and her limbs shaking.

I got a fluttering across the back of my neck as the monster within me took notice and became alert, ready to defend my Beautiful from anything the nurse perceived as a threat. No one panicked the way she was without it being from life or death fears. She was afraid of something, and it wasn't just seeing a bunch of big men dressed in black. None of us would have threatened her and it was clear she felt threatened.

I scanned the room but nothing had changed. I zeroed in on her conversation. My hearing had always been extremely fine-tuned and I was glad to know that it hadn't failed me now.

I first noticed her voice: high pitched, cracked, and hollowed all speaking to the level of her panic. She was desperate and I could tell by her body language she felt trapped. She was on edge as though she couldn't stop moving like a caged tiger, her eyes moving around the room as if she was afraid someone or something was going to pop out of hiding, and her hands shook when she wasn't holding them or rubbing them together.

"I have to leave, I don't know when I will be back or if I will be back," I heard her tell the other girl standing at the desk. I took quick notes of the other girl's body language and it didn't speak of any known dangers. It was relaxed, not on alert, she was just standing there watching and listening to the panicked girl before her with an expression of borderline boredom at the dramatics being displayed.

The woman shook her head telling the girl no without bothering to speak the answer, and I heard a quelled cry briefly break from the woman's lips. Clearly, her level of panic had not decreased with the answer she was given.

Her body dipped and rose as she moved on and off of her tiptoes, her body bending in on itself and straightening a half second later. It was as if she was trying to beg with her body language. "You don't understand. He found me after all these years, he knows where I work," she stated and I immediately felt my body tense.

Who had found her, what danger was she in, and how would this affect my Beautiful? The way she spoke, whoever it was after her would come here looking for her. I felt my body immediately tense. Going on alert, I once again scanned the area for any potential threats even though I logically knew there were no immediate threats as no one had entered the unit.

"You are fine, just have a security guard walk you to your car. I am sure you are over thinking it," the woman replied, completely dismissing the woman's fear. I felt a surge plow through me and I wanted to kick her ass for such useless comment. I couldn't imagine exactly what the danger was all about, but if I had to guess by her comments, I would label it domestic abuse. Those cases were always hairy. No one liked fucking domestic abuse cases. One minute, you were trying to protect the woman against her abusive husband, and the next, they were both trying to beat your ass.

It wasn't always the case, there were a few we had helped, but for some, there seemed to be no answer. I cleared my head to continue listening to their conversation.

"I went to the parking garage and my car has been damaged, looks like someone beat it with a baseball bat. I know it was him. That is my warning, you don't understand what he will do if he finds me. I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't wandering the hallway right now looking for me. We need to call the police. I need to get out of here," her voice rising with each word as the panic set further in and I couldn't help but think, oh fuck. She said her car was damaged. Fuck, this couldn't be happening.

I cut my eyes over to Tank, who I knew had been tuned into woman the second she entered the unit and I knew he had heard the conversation. And like me, he picked up on the panic in her voice and the fear she felt by what she perceived was a threat to her life. I continued to listen in on the girls' conversation, and I could feel Tank's eyes on me all but telling me 'see what the fuck you have done'. I also felt the chastising of 'I told you to handle this shit before the owner of the car found it.' Fuck, this day royally sucked ass.

I bowed my head, ashamed for having sent her into a panic, but, in my defense, it wasn't exactly like I could have known the owner of the car had some fucked up crazy motherfucker after her that would cause her to go into a complete tailspin at seeing her car damaged. At most, I figured someone would be pissed at me and want to punch me, not fucking lose it in fear and panic.

I stepped away from the door, confident that Tank could handle guarding her door solo for a few minutes, and stepped up to the counter where the women were talking. The moment my presence registered with them, their conversation dropped. It was clear that neither of them wanted their conversation to be overheard.

I cleared my throat. "I am sorry ladies, but I couldn't help but over hear your conversation," I said and I watched the cheeks flame of the panicked woman. It was clear that she was more embarrassed to talk about the issue with me having heard than she was afraid of the threat she had felt. Part of me couldn't understand the logic behind that, especially if I had assessed the situation she was in correctly.

I never really quite understood that aspect of domestic abuse, but I found it to be true for most women. They were more ashamed to admit to it than they were afraid of it. It wasn't like it was their fault, it wasn't like they did anything to ask for it, though many thought they did. I had never met a victim of abuse that asked for it. Fuckers who thought they had needed their heads shoved up their own asses. I shook the thoughts off and continued talking through the awkward silence from the ladies.

"Did I hear you say someone damaged your car?" I asked the woman, and she nodded, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly opened, and I inexplicably found myself focusing on her slightly plumped lips. I felt my dick stir as images of that mouth wrapped around certain parts of me jolted through my mind.

I quickly shook those images away as I stepped slightly forward while schooling my dick on its current out of control behavior. Today was definitely not the day for these thoughts. I focused back on the woman before me. "What kind of car do you drive?" I asked her. I knew the answer before she spoke.

She looked up at me, her brown eyes full of sparks of gold and little hint of green, and they grabbed me as they swam in unshed tears so that I felt the urge to just wipe away. I was hit in the chest with such an urge to protect her and wipe away anything that would bring a tear to those beautiful eyes.

I briefly shook my head, I didn't want to think about this fucking shit. I never thought about this shit. Fuck her, yes, her sucking my dick, yes, her screaming my name until she was too fucking hoarse to speak, yes, fucking her so hard she wouldn't be able to walk the next day, fuck yes, but not this mushy fucking shit. I was the love them and leave them type, a no attachments kind of guy.

There wasn't a place in my life for this shit. This day was sucking more ass every minute, my emotions had run the gauntlet today, and now I was thinking this frilly shit. What the fuck was wrong with me? I shook myself to clear all thoughts, completely convinced the day had just short-circuited my brain, causing me to have totally irrational thoughts.

After all, my dick suddenly decided to have a fucking mind of its own. The worst day of my life, and here I am fucking getting hard looking a girl standing in the middle of the unit that my best friend, hell, my sister, is on currently unconscious because she was is still fighting for her life after taking a bullet meant for me, and all my dick can seem to think about is the pretty little blonde, brown-eyed woman before me. It is clear I need my fucking head examined, at least the big one and possibly the little one, too.

"…bug," was all I heard after my internal chastising of my behavior ended. Fucking, great I heard none of that, but I did hear bug, and it was a bug I beat the hell out of. What would be the odds of two Volkswagen bugs having the shit beat out of them in the same day within the same parking structure? I would say slim to none so I didn't ask her to repeat herself.

I skipped the whole piece of the conversation where she felt threatened. She wasn't, it was me, so I wasn't going to go there especially today with the way my thoughts were I wouldn't trust myself. I just raised my hands and showed her my knuckles.

"I need to apologize to you," I started and her eyes locked on me her face looking taken aback and slightly shocked, but I didn't let that stop me from speaking. "My best friend is behind that door," I pointed to Beautiful's door, "she is there because of me. I know there is no excuse, but I sort of lost it in the parking structure when I thought I lost her, and your car happened to be too close," I told her. Her mouth opened in shock as my words registered through her mind.

"You beat up my car?" she asked me, clearly the shock working through her as she struggled to understand what I was trying to tell her. I nodded my head before continuing.

"Yes, I am sorry. I fully intend on replacing your vehicle," I quickly added. "I am sorry if it scared you or upset you. I never intended to harm your car or anyone's, it just sort of happened before I realized it," I explained. I knew it was a lame fucking excuse and had it been my car I would be ready to kick some motherfucker's ass but I really hoped she would just accept my offer of a replacement without getting too upset.

She worked on the unit Beautiful was going to be on, fuck, she could be one of her nurses, and I didn't want her upset with Beautiful because one of her friends fucking destroyed her car and sent her in to full on panic mode. I couldn't help to wonder what the fuck she was so afraid of, but I knew better than to broach that subject. That was a can of worms I was more than willing to keep the lid on.

"I will make arrangements with the local dealership all you will need to do is go pick a replacement," I told her. She had yet to say anything. The other nurse made some noise and walked away from us. The woman stood there her mouth moving slightly but no words coming out and seeing her mouth slightly agape had my dick once again thinking on its own.

I turned my head to take that vision out of my line of sight until I could gain control of my inappropriate thoughts. I did briefly scan her hands, and she wasn't wearing any rings, not that it actually meant anything. I shook my head to clear all thoughts and get back to business.

"I don't know if you want to drive the car or not. I don't think I did anything to the car to keep you from driving it. Most of it is cosmetic damage, but if you want I can have someone give you a ride home. I work for Rangeman, you may have heard of us. We are security firm here in town, my boss Ranger, makes donations to this hospital, so we are safe," I briefly wondered what the fuck was wrong with me with all the fucking rambling. It was as if someone had stolen my fucking tongue and wouldn't stop flapping it.

I was just trying to put her at ease with us and allow us to give her a ride home, but I knew it was somehow more than that. I didn't want to acknowledge it, and I didn't want to analyze it because right now, it scared the fuck out of me that I couldn't control my own body and thoughts when it came to her.

"It's O…," she started to say but I cut her off.

"No, it isn't okay, none of it is okay. Let one of us drive you home. I can't leave right now as I need to be here for Bea.. Stephanie, but I will ask Slyder to give you a ride home," I said, hoping she would comply when I thought she was about to say no one more time.

"Please," I added. It seemed to work with Beautiful so I thought what the fuck. It took a minute of her thinking, but she finally nodded her head. I couldn't help the smile that broke out at her compliance. I nodded and stepped back. I shared a look with Tank that told him I was going to step outside of the unit for a moment. When I saw his head move up a slight degree, I knew he understood, I stepped up to the door, placed my hand over the sensor and the doors opened.

"Slyder, I need a favor man," I stated and Slyder stepped up. I knew he would do whatever I asked just because I labeled it a favor, but I could see the days wear on him. It showed on all of us. No one knew about the car in the parking lot though I am certain they didn't think I received these bruised knuckles for nothing. "Long story short, I fucked up a car in the parking garage and it belongs to one of the nurses on Beautiful's unit," I put up my hand when I saw him about to say something. I could see the questions and concerns in his eyes, and I knew he was pissed.

"Before you are ready to kick my ass, I am replacing her car with a brand new one, okay? I just need you to take her home. There is also something more going on with her, I am not certain about but I am thinking some sort of domestic issue. She was worried that someone had damaged her car as a message to her. She said that before I told her it was me. I haven't asked her anything about it and I don't want you to ask her anything right now, but make note of where she lives, and check the area for anything that looks wrong to you," I told him. He nodded his understanding, but I felt I needed to further clarify my reasoning.

"I just don't want anything following her here, Beautiful has been through enough and she doesn't need to be endangered because of whatever this nurse is involved in. Let's just have one of the guys at Rangeman run her information. It's always better to be prepared," I later added. He nodded and we made our way back into the unit.

Once Slyder and Layla, the now less frantic nurse, left the unit, I returned to my post outside Beautiful's door. I looked over at Tank and his lips tipped slightly at me as though he was smiling. I felt annoyance fill me as I bit back a sharp comment of 'happy now, fucker?'. I knew something had happened though I wasn't sure what it was, and I was pretty certain that Tank also knew something had happened during that conversation.

Fuck. This day was rounding out to be one giant of a fuck me of a day. I briefly wondered what I had done to piss of all the gods of the universe in one fucking day. Whatever it was, I was going to have to figure out how to appease them because I truly couldn't stand a repeat of this day ever again.

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, leave a review!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thanks to my beta Angela. Your patience and hard-work is much appreciated!**_

**Chapter 9**

**SPOV**

My body aches. My head feels like it is being pressed on from all sides to the point it feels like it may explode. I try to breathe, and my chest hurts so much that I want to hold my breath, my throat burns as though someone is holding a flame deep inside, and I feel as though my eyelids are being weighted down with thousand pound weights. Regardless of how hard I fight, they refuse to open.

I was so exhausted that just my attempts to open my eyes have pushed my exhaustion beyond anything believable. My body aches from breathing that I want to stop, and yet my desire to see Carlos is so strong that I would fight every pain and every burn until I had no more ability to fight.

I couldn't remembered what happened. I wasn't even sure where I was, but if I had to guess from the level of pain and the sounds around me, I would say I was in the hospital. I try to recall what happened that would have resulted in me being in the hospital, but at the moment, nothing came to the surface. I found the attempts of remembering only further weaken me.

I push harder at opening my eyes, knowing that if I can just push past the pain, past the weight and get my eyes to open, I will feel better. I hear voices, but I can't make out what they are saying in their hushed tones. I try to focus on the voices, but find that costs me the strength I need to open my eyes. The need to see Carlos is so strong in me I forgo the chance to listen in.

I try to breathe deeper but the pain keeps me from sucking the air in deep. My first thought is a broken rib. They suck. If I have a broken rib, it will take weeks for them to heal. I frown at the thought of being assigned to a desk. I just earned my Rangeman status and I was ready for a little fieldwork. Shit.

I pushed harder to open my eyes. I felt them flutter with my attempt, and it gave me hope that I would be able to get them open. I saw the first bits of light with the flutter, and the pain from the light had me wanting to retreat back to darkness, but my need to see him overrode every ache, every pain, and I pushed even harder.

I took as deep of a breath as possible and pushed harder. I pushed past the ache, past the knife-like pains that sliced through my brain, and my eyes fluttered more to the point that I was blinking fast and catching the briefest of one-second glimpses of my surroundings. I couldn't really make out any one thing in the room, and I only knew that I wasn't alone and there were things in the room.

I wasn't afraid. I knew Carlos was here with me, I knew I was safe. I could feel him and the knowledge that he was here made me to push harder to get my eyes opened permanently. My eyes finally opened, and it took me a second to focus on my surroundings. I was definitely in a hospital room, Carlos was there beside me, and my heart soared with just being able to see him.

I focused my eyes on him and I couldn't help but question if I were truly seeing him. I had never seen him look this way. His hair hung loose, seemingly longer than I had seen it, but it was probably a figment of my imagination. Hair doesn't grow that much in a day. His five-o'clock shadow looked more along the lines of an unkempt beard. Beard? He didn't have a beard the last time I saw him. Wasn't that this morning? I looked at his clothes but I wouldn't know if they were the same clothes as they were a black t-shirt and black combat pants. His every-day wear.

The rumpled look of his clothes had me thinking he had been wearing them longer than this morning. His clothing never wrinkled even his every-day clothing didn't dare wrinkle on that body. He looked worried to me, and that had me seriously questioning what the fuck happened to me.

I met his eyes and I saw the look of worry, I saw the questions, and I wanted to smile, but something about his look set off my tears and I couldn't help as my eyes filled with tears and a few fell down the side of my face running into my ears.

"Sshh, Babe, it's okay. You are okay. I am here. Don't cry, Babe, please don't cry. It's okay, it's going to be okay don't cry," Carlos spoke soft and low, his voice sounded hoarse and gravely and I couldn't help but wonder why. Feeling him touch my face, feeling his fingers wipe the tears away, had me craving the feel of his arms wrapped around me. I wanted to feel him holding me. I would have grabbed him but my limbs felt too heavy to move.

My throat felt as if it were seared by fire and the need for water was overwhelming. I tried to open my mouth to ask for water but I found that just caused the flames to raise higher. It was burning so hot I was worried that fire would shoot out from mouth if I opened it. I tried to clear my throat but it wasn't going well.

Bobby must have figured out what I needed because he held a straw in front of my lips and I latched on like a starving baby.

"Easy, just sip it, only a little bit. Let's see how it settles on your stomach," Bobby said, and I relented to his wishes and let go of the straw. The water relieved some of the burn, but it was still there. I closed my eyes and held them closed for a second, relishing the fact that the burning was better, before opening them and once again finding Carlos' eyes.

"Babe," he said. I could see the concern and worry in his eyes, and I knew the answer to my pending questions wasn't going to be good. I wanted to wipe those looks off his face. I wanted to fix them, but I was not sure how. I knew they are there because of me, and I hated it, but I just didn't know why.

I tested my voice. "Wh...what happened?" I managed to croak out.

I saw a look pass between Bobby and Carlos, and I could tell they were trying to decide what to tell me. I closed my eyes, hoping they would choose to tell me everything, but I knew they would try to protect me by telling me what they think I needed to know and not what I wanted to know. If I'd felt better, I would have gotten pissy and rolled my eyes at them, but right now, I don't have the strength.

"What do you remember?" Carlos asked me and I tried to think back to what I did remember.

"I don't know, I don't remember anything," I managed to tell them and I saw a look pass between Bobby and him. I wished I could tell what they were saying to each other, but my mind reading skills seem to be on the blink along with my ability to remember what happened.

"Babe, if you can, tell us what you do know. Do you know me? Do you know him?" Carlos asked me, pointing to Bobby. I could see the worry building in both of them while I wondered why they were asking me such basic questions.

I nodded my head, trying to tell him I knew before I spoke, but the question that kept resonating throughout me was; what happened to bring us to this point. I quickly scanned the room trying to piece together my thoughts and questions looking for anything in the room that would lead me to the answer.

"Babe?" I heard the question in Carlos' voice and it reminded me that I hadn't answered him.

"Carlos, I know who you are, and I know Bobby," I answered, and I couldn't help but return the smile he granted to me. It was as if the whole room took a huge sigh of relief as my words filtered through them, causing me to further understand the level of their worry and concern over me.

"I don't know why I am here, what happened? But I know who I am and I know who you are," I quickly followed up, hoping they would tell me what I wanted to know.

"Babe, you got shot," Carlos said as he touched my shoulder, bringing my attention to the bandage high on the front of my left shoulder. That would explain the pain. I nodded. Not because I remembered, but because the pain I am feeling now makes sense.

Carlos grabbed my hand and I held onto him as though he was going to be ripped away from me. Now it was making sense, the room, the pain, the looks on Bobby and Carlos' face, the rumpled clothing.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"It's been almost three weeks," Carlos answered and I felt the shock flow over me; three weeks. I had been in the hospital almost three weeks? How could that be? I am just now waking up after three weeks? What the fuck?

"Three weeks? I have been here three weeks and am just waking up now?" I asked, trying my best to process the information yet finding it almost impossible. I could feel an almost panic rising up within, but it didn't make sense to panic now. I mean, I am awake now. Everything was over, why panic now?

Bobby spoke up. "Steph, the damage was significant. The bullet hit your iPod, which shattered. Pieces of the iPod hit your lungs and your heart. Your heart stopped from the damage from the iPod pieces and the bullet shattered your collarbone and then lodged in your lung," he said, then paused for me to take all of the information in. Fuck, my heart had stopped.

My eyes snapped to Carlos, and the tears popped in my eyes and there was no holding them back as they rolled down my face. I almost lost him. I closed my eyes, trying to control the feelings washing over me. The fear that I could have been taken away from him. I felt my hands tightening further on Carlos' hand as my eyes once again locked on his.

I wanted to say something, but what was there to say, sorry I was shot? That didn't seem like something one would say. I mean, no one wanted to be shot, so it went without saying I was sorry for being shot. I could see Carlos wanted to say something also, but he too was holding it back.

The tears piled back up in my eyes blocking my view. "I am sorry, I love you Carlos," I managed to croak out before the tears started falling. Damn, I couldn't seem to get control.

"Sshh, Babe, it's okay, you are here. I am here. I love you. Just know I am never going to let go," he said and I couldn't help my lips from tipping up to a smile in spite of the tears falling down my eyes. I loved those words. I wasn't capable of letting go at this moment so I was good with him never letting me go.

"Ranger, we need to call the doctors in to look at her, they may ask us to leave the room while they examine her," he added, and I couldn't help but wonder why, but I didn't care why because I wasn't going to let go for Carlos to allow him to leave the room. I needed him. I needed Carlos more than I needed the doctors. I needed to feel him, I needed to wrap myself around him and feel him holding me. I just needed him. The world would be right once he was holding me. I would be okay once I felt him holding me.

"I am not letting go," I told him and this time his lips twitched into a slight smile as my hands tightened on his as I pulled him closer to me.

**LPOV**

The door open with such force that I almost jumped. Had it not been for years of training and conditioning, I would have jumped like a school girl spotting a spider. Tthanks to Uncle Sam, I was able to keep my badass card fully lodged in my wallet.

"She just woke up," Bobby announced as he bounded by us to the nurses station. I looked at Tank and I couldn't help the smile that broke out. The relief that washed over me was palpable. We had all been fucking worried sick. They had backed off the meds keeping her in the coma over a week ago and she hadn't woken up.

I wanted to throw my badass card out the window, and jump up and down and scream from a roof that she had woken up. I knew there were many questions about her injuries. Her brain function was the biggest concerns. The doctors had just about given up on her. But neither Ranger nor any of us had. We knew what she was capable of, but the experts had all but tried to tell us to pull the plug. We would never have agree to that. We would never leave her.

I shook my head, remembering what happened to the doctor that delivered that news to Ranger. What a dumb fucking snob nose of a prick doctor. Far as I am concerned, he got what the fuck he deserved. It cost Ranger a fucking huge donation to the hospital in order to make it all go away, but money always has a way of talking. You just have to be willing to give enough to make it say what you want. Ranger wasn't going to stay away, so he would have given whatever amount was needed. The biggest problem of the whole thing was they didn't fire that prick of a doctor.

It hadn't even been a week since they backed off the meds. She hadn't woken up when they thought she should. The doctors all visited her, and they decided to give her more time. Their idea of more time was twenty-four hours before this dumbass decided he had all the answers. In his opinion, they should have seen more brain activity from the tests.

A few days ago, this doctor appeared outside her door. I didn't like him from the moment he stepped up to the door and acted as though he was offended because we didn't just open the door for him. Like we should know who he was or just allow him to enter because he had on the prestigious doctor's coat. Like that made a fuck difference to us. When he had to give us his name, he had that tone in his voice as if we were shit on his shoes. Nothing we haven't dealt with in the past, but he was ultimately Beautiful's doctor so it didn't give me the warmest of feelings.

I had to check myself to keep from knocking him the fuck out. In hindsight, maybe I should have acted on those urges. Once he was granted entrance into her room, I followed him because I didn't trust him. Something about him told me he needed to be watched. I knew things weren't going to go good with him, and I was right.

He was one of those doctors who thought they were entitled to do whatever they wanted because they had Dr. in front of their name. What he needed to know was that we were Rangeman, and that out ranked any Dr. title he would ever earn. As it turned out, I wasn't needed.

He entered the room, telling Ranger and Bobby that they needed to give up, that she wasn't going to wake up and that she was taking up a valuable hospital resources by remaining in the ICU unit. He went on to inform them that he was going to move her to a room on one of the other floors. I am not sure if he finished his sentence because that was all he was able to get out.

Ranger moved before it registered to Bobby or me, and the next thing we knew, the doctor was crumpled on the floor. It was what we all wanted to do with his tone and attitude, but it was Ranger who had lashed out like a cobra striking its prey. The strike was almost faster than the human eye could detect. I winced just thinking about it.

I almost snickered remembering the doctor's injuries, a broken cheek, missing tooth, and cracked nose from his fall. He folded in on himself as he fell and hit the bed on his way down. I shook my head to clear the memory as I heard footsteps coming closer. I looked up to see Bobby coming, along with two doctors and a nurse. I was glad to see that Dr. dumb shit wasn't a member of the group. He probably wouldn't have the balls to step into her room a second time.

As soon as the group entered her room, Tank turned to me.

"So you going to man up and go in her room to see her?" Tank point blank asked me and I want to yell at him that it was none of his fucking business, but we all knew in a way, it was. I saw his eyes challenge me, and I felt the desire to push back, but I pulled myself back, and took a deep breath, choosing to keep my cool.

Truth of the matter, I was not certain what the fuck I was going to do. I had only been in her room a couple of times, and both of those times, I felt the anger rise within me. I was still pissed at her, and I wasn't sure how to control it to a point that I could completely trust myself to not take my anger out on her.

"Fucking drop it," I managed to say, only remembering the last time I said those words. I rubbed my sore jaw, and I couldn't help but think about the events that went down that earned me the well-deserved knock-out punch.

It was the first time I had walked into her room. I stood in her room that night with Slyder beside me in front of Ranger, Bobby, and Tank. Cal stood outside of the door, and from the look he gave me, I was certain he could hear every word spoken.

Slyder and I had filled them in on the events of the day when Stephanie was shot. In the retelling of what happened that day, I couldn't control my anger. The rage took over, and I raised my voice at her demanding that she wake up and answer why. I didn't get the words out of my mouth before I felt the punch. It only took one. When I woke up, I was outside of the unit sitting on the floor with Vince and Luke standing beside me. I wasn't sure how long I had been out. I didn't want to ask either of them.

I knew I deserved the punch, but I wasn't going to talk to them about it. When Vince asked me what happened, I told him to just fucking drop it as I got up of the floor and made my way back into the unit to stand guard at her door.

I wasn't going to let a fucking punch keep me from doing my job even though I hurt and I had no doubt that I looked like hell, but I didn't give a fuck. I had a job to do, and that was more important than licking my wounds and feeling fucking sorry for myself. Nothing more had been said from that night until now, but Tank felt the need to fucking remind me.

I rubbed my still sore jaw. "I told you to man up and be the man she thinks you are," Tank said, the threat along with the promise was clear in his voice. Unless I got my shit straight, that would only be the tip of the iceberg as far as pain went.

Fuck.

"I won't let her down," I said, only hoping that I could in fact keep from letting her down. I itched to see her. I wanted to know she was okay. I wanted to know she was still my Beautiful, but I was afraid. Time was running out. I needed to get my shit figured out so I could truly be the man she believed me to be.

Fuck! Tank was right, not that I wanted him to know that.

"You going in to see her when they come out?" Tank asked me. I closed my eyes. Why the fuck wouldn't he just fucking drop it. I told him I wouldn't let her down, so why did he feel the need to keep pushing me and rubbing it in. The anger flared in me and I found myself once again wanting to lash out.

I sucked in a few short breaths and huffed them out, trying to control the flare of fury burning through my body.

I didn't answer at first, I wasn't sure what the answer was going to be. "Lester, answer the fucking question," Tank said, his voice low almost a growl. He wasn't giving me a choice not to answer. Well, I guess I had the choice of not answering if I wanted my ass beat. I knew I would lose, not that I really gave a shit for me.

It took me a good day to beat Tank. Fuck. I would have to be at the top of game to beat him. Today wasn't one of those days, far from it, in fact. I hadn't had one of those days since Beautiful got shot.

I was distracted, I was pissed, and I had rage boiling through my system. All the things that would keep me from being on the top of my game. Tank knew it, and yet he was pushing me. I knew the reasons. I knew why, but it only further pissed me off instead of relieving any of the pressure.

Tank wanted me to take my anger out on him instead of her. He wanted me to lose my shit out in the hallway of this fucking hospital instead of while I was in her room. He wanted me to exercise my demons before walking in there, and he was giving me opportunity. Regardless of his reason, it still pissed me off.

"Fuck. Tank, I don't know. Okay. I do, however, know that if I can't walk in her room and not be pissed off at her, then I am not going in there. We all know how that went last time, I don't want her awake for that shit," I snarled at him, not knowing what else to say but the fucking truth at this point.

He had pushed me beyond excuses and reasoning, it was just plain raw ugly truth at this point. And it fucking sucked ass. I don't know what else he fucking wanted from me. It wasn't like he would be any different. That stubborn motherfucker wasn't going to drop this, he wasn't going to leave this alone until I came clean. That was about as clean as I could fucking get from this shit.

His eyes continue to bore in me. I could feel them even though I was no longer looking at him, but I didn't turn to face off with him. I just kept my eyes forward. Seeing everything, yet looking at nothing in particular.

This had been the longest fucking three weeks of my life. We were no closer to who had taken the shot. The motherfucker had to die before we got to him to question him. I was set on a little revenge of my own, but when it was a dead body I would be taking my revenge out on, that rather killed the whole feelings of gratification with it.

Just thinking about it had me wanting to yell at the top of my lungs. That was one thing I was holding on to, the fact that I could make that fucker pay for his part in all of this. But, fate decided to rip that opportunity away from me. Fate was a fucking bitch at times.

I quickly reminded myself that fate also gave me Beautiful back, and that she was awake now, so I couldn't be but so pissed at fate. Since I no longer had revenge in my corner, I had to look at the good. We would eventually find the fucker responsible. We would trace this fucker's path and we would find the person or persons who were ultimately responsible for this shit, and they would pay.

It was clear this fucker was just a hired thug. He wasn't the one pulling the strings.

We had people working on tracking him down, but nothing had turned up. Once we had an identity, then we would be able to find the money and track it. Always track the money that is where the story lies. It rarely is anything else that does the talking like money.

You could have anything, everything for the right price. It is just a matter of deciding if the price was worth the results, and, the added fact of, if you purchased it, could you live with yourself. For some, you would be surprised the answers to those questions.

I glanced back at the door. I was feeling anxious to hear what the Doctors had discovered. I needed to know if Beautiful was back or if she suffered something more permanent. I sent a silent prayer up, not sure that it would be answered, but at this point, I was down to pure desperation and I was falling back on what Layla told me.

Layla said that God held soldiers in a special place. I can only hope that she is right and that He will grant my wish for Beautiful because of it.

Layla had picked out her new car. I expected her to go to the lot and pick the most expensive vehicle on the lot. It would have served my dumbass right. Fuck, she should have. She didn't. The sales man reported that she first went for a used vehicle almost exactly like the one I had destroyed. He had to tell her that I rejected anything used. I could have kicked his ass for saying it like that, but, in the end, she relented, and went to the new car lot and picked the car she wanted.

She picked a light green bug, and, somehow, the color seemed to fit her. I was just glad the registration was going to be in her name and not mine, I am not certain I would ever live that color down. Regardless, that was done, so thankfully, that was one thing Tank wasn't on my ass for.

She had even managed to forgive me and continued to speak to me from time to time. The unit was incredibly busy, but every now and then, she would drop words of encouragement or hope in our ear about Beautiful's condition or her prognosis.

She even cheered when we dragged the doctor prick out of her room. She couldn't do it out loud, but I saw it. I wondered what he had done to her for her to be happy that he got the shit knocked out of him, but I hadn't asked her about it. It wasn't hard to see what a prick he was so I could only imagine the shit he had put her through.

We had turned away her mother, her father, and even that fucking cop who attempted to gain access to her room. When we turned away her Mother and that fucking cop, Morelli, at the main unit door, they got nurses to escort them into the unit.

When they didn't make it past Tank and I, they tried a second time with Slyder and Cal. Needless to say, they were not successful with either attempt, but it only made me want to hunt both of them down to ensure they wouldn't be able to make a third attempt.

Her mother's screeching got her expelled from the unit. She wanted to know how we could make up those heinous lies about her. She demanded to be told how we doctored pictures with her and Joe to spread rumors and lies that have destroyed her life. I wanted to laugh at her ridiculous version of how pictures of her and the prick cop in less than appropriate attire and positions made it around Trenton.

In her screech of hate and spray of venom, she let it be known that Frank left her and the church revoked the position she held. Of course, the fact that she was now an outcast of the burg was all Beautiful's fault. I believe that was the point at which I laughed at her. To hear her, none of it was her fault. She had no responsibility or accountability in the destruction of her life, even though it was her sucking that cop's dick to the point that it was about ready to pop off his body.

Despite the cop turning purple because of all of his yelling, all of his accusations, all of his blaming us, he never got a response from us. He only was escorted out of the unit for being disruptive. He went willing, so unfortunately he can come back. However, Helen didn't go so willingly, and she is currently banned. I could only wish that Morelli had crossed that line.

Part of me was glad that Beautiful was still sleeping during all this. She didn't hear the commotion outside of her room or feel guilt about not letting them in to see her. She wouldn't want to see them, but she would possibly do it before she allowed them to disturb anyone else, and they were counting on that. Only they didn't know she wasn't conscious and couldn't hear them making asses out of themselves.

The one good thing about her stay, if there was a good thing, was the rumor mill at the hospital had seemed to be dead for the moment. I for one was grateful, though I wasn't sure exactly what had changed, but the nurses taking care of Beautiful didn't seem to be willing to talk. I was hoping this wasn't just because of the unit. If they moved her to a regular room on the floor, then protecting her was going to get a little more complicated as we would no longer have the added level of protection with the locked unit doors. Maybe Ranger's money could keep her here.

I glanced over at Tank. He had stopped staring at me, and I briefly questioned if I should say anything, but I figured we needed to talk about this.

"So, how much of the past three weeks are we going to tell her?" I asked him.

He turned his head and looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. I knew what he is thinking. We knew that we should tell her everything, and yet questioned what good would it do for her to know everything. Added to the fact was the complication that we didn't know what her condition was. Would she understand it? Would she be able to process everything? If we weren't going to tell her everything, then where the fuck would we start or stop?

There were no answers, only more questions. Then the biggest question of all was what the fuck I was going to do when it came my time to see her.

It wasn't much longer before the doors opened and the doctors and nurse filed out of her room. One thing was sure, we needed to start answering some of these questions, and my time had run out. I needed to man up and see my best friend, my sister, my Beautiful.

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi Everyone! Let me first say that I am sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter to you! I can only say that real life has been so busy! I have no idea where July and August went. I can barely believe yesterday was 9/11. Thank everyone who reached out to me to check on me, check on the chapter! I love you all. I love how dedicated you are to the story. How excited you are about the next chapter. It truly warms my heart and makes my day! I can only say that I hope there are no other breaks in the story like this past break. I am going to work hard to get back on a regular posting scheduled from this point on. I don't want to promise until I am ensure I can deliver but know that this story is important to me, you are important to me and this story will be completed. I will not leave it unfinished!**

**Thank you Angela! You have to be the most patient BETA on the planet!**

**Now on to the chapter I hope you all love it! **

**Chapter 10**

**SPOV**

Bobby walked out of the room in search of the doctors. My eyes never Carlos. He said I had been shot, but he had not said much beyond that.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"A little over three weeks," he answered without further elaborating. Part of me wanted to sigh; getting information from him was going to be like pulling eyeteeth.

Three weeks. I had been in the hospital for three weeks. For some reason, I was having a hard time processing the fact that it had been that long, and yet I had no memory of what happened.

"Babe, let's not talk about it right now. You just woke up, please rest. Don't overdo anything right now. We will tell you everything when the time is right, but the time isn't right now. You need to recover. You need to save your reserves for healing, please," he said, and I could see and hear the worry in his voice; it was more than palpable.

I relented. I wanted to know more, but I was unable to go against his pleas of please. Hearing him say please moved something within me that I could not ignore or push myself to prevent obeying his request. Therefore, I did what he asked and I stopped voicing the hundreds of questions that were flying through my mind.

"I love you," I said. I needed to say something. I could not just lie here and watch him without speaking. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to know he was there beside me in every way. I needed his touch, his voice, his love, and his strong palpable presence in the room. I needed it all.

"God, Babe, I love you," he said, but I could tell he wanted to say so much more. I felt it too, but neither of us knew what to say. My body craved his touch to the point that it ached. The longer I was awake, the stronger the ache became.

Thoughts of never being able to see him, hold him, love him, had my breath hitching. Shutting my eyes, I tried to convince myself that everything was okay, but deep down inside, I knew it was not okay. Looking at Carlos confirmed it was not okay. Taking in his appearance alone told me it was not okay. I was not sure what would make it okay, short of erasing the last three weeks from our lives.

There was no way for any of us to make that happen, so the only thing we could do is move forward. We had to move past the thoughts of what could have been, and be thankful for what it was. We were still together. I was still here with him, with all of them. That was all that mattered, but I was not so sure they would feel the same way.

I squeezed his hand, which he returned, both knowing we wanted to say more and yet both being completely incapable of discussing the unthinkable.

"Babe, please open your eyes. I don't think I can take not looking into your eyes right now," I heard the vulnerability in his voice, the slight plea, and the unspoken words. The feelings hit me to the point that it had my eyes flying open and locking on his.

I had not realized I had closed them. I was trying to control the flow of emotions cursing through me. "I am not going anywhere Carlos, I promise. If I close my eyes, I am going to open my eyes again. I was feeling a little bit overwhelmed and shut them," I tried to explain.

"Tell me what happened, besides the fact that I got shot," I asked Carlos. He immediately started to shake his head when the door opened and several people walked in behind Bobby. I was disappointed when I saw all the white coats and saw only one black shirt belonging to Bobby. The relief in Carlos' eyes that the door opened, saved him from having to answer my questions, was not lost on me.

I knew Bobby was going to get the doctors, but I hoped that I would get a chance to say hi to my brothers. But no such luck. I looked at the doctors, hoping that they would be quick. I also hoped they could tell me when I could get out of here. I hurt, but the longer I was awake, the better I was able to control the pain and, surprisingly, the better I felt. I was exhausted and felt as though I could sleep for months, but seeing Carlos made me want to stay in the moment I was in and not give in to my body's wishes.

The fact that I had been asleep for weeks did not register as my body still felt so tired and worn out.

"Ms. Plum…" one of the doctors started, and I put my hand up in front of me halting him mid-sentence. The words died on his tongue, but his mouth was still agape and his eyes slightly widened, snapping to Carlos and then back to me.

I briefly wondered what that look was about, but then shrugged it off and continued to talk. "Please call me Steph or Stephanie. Ms. Plum is my mother and I'd just as soon not be referred to by her name. If you insist on calling Ms. then call me Mrs. Manoso," I told the doctor. We all knew I was not married, but I knew Carlos would not balk at me using his last name. At least, he hadn't when I had used it before. The doctor nodded and then proceeded.

"Steph, we need to run some test so see if you have suffered any type of long-term damage. Your heart stopped from trauma sustained from shards of your iPod when the bullet hit it. The bullet damaged your lung as well. We were able to repair the damage to your body with surgery, and your body appears to be recovering well. I am certain you are sore in lots of places and may be in pain in others. If you work with us, then we will figure out what you need and how to make your recovery and your stay here easier," he said.

When I heard the words stay here my eyes shifted and locked onto Carols' eyes. All I could think was I was going to have to stay here. It wasn't that I didn't know that somewhere deep within me, but my need to be in Carlos' arms was greater than my wanting to acknowledge that you just didn't wake up after three weeks in a coma and get to go home immediately.

I knew the only thing to do was to agree so I nodded my head. "Okay," I voiced, agreeing to work with the doctors. Part of me wanted to ask what they wanted, but the look on Carlos' face made me not want to ask questions, but just do whatever they wanted.

"Steph, the first thing we are going to do is a CAT scan of your brain. Then we will run some tests on your heart and lungs to assess the extent of your recovery," one of the other doctors said. I nodded, feeling better they were telling me more though they did not go into to details with the tests.

"We will also setup sessions with a physical therapist that will get you up and moving. Your body has been immobile for weeks, and we need to get you up walking and gaining back some of your strength," yet another doctor added. I looked at Bobby. I know he does all of the physical therapy for my brothers. I want to tell the doctor that I want Bobby, but I keep quiet for the moment. I will tell Bobby when the doctors have left. It is not as if I did not trust the doctors, it was simply I wanted Bobby to do it.

I saw a Bobby smile slightly and I knew he had caught my thoughts even though I had not spoken them.

"Do you know how long I will have to stay here?" I asked, knowing they would say no, or perhaps that the tests would tell them more, but I could not hold the question back any longer.

Everyone in the room smiled at my question. I looked to Bobby first and then Carlos, and part of me wanted to shrug my shoulders. I knew it was a stupid question and that the doctors had already told me the tests they need to do before I would be able to go home, but I just could not stop my mouth from opening and asking the question.

"Well Steph, I think right now, let us focus on the tests then once we see what they tell us about you, we will be able to tell you when you can leave the hospital," one of the doctors said and I couldn't keep my eyes from narrowing slightly at his comments. I am not certain if he wanted to be funny, was making fun, or was seriously trying to placate me, but something about it annoyed me slightly.

My eyes snapped to Carlos', and I could see he had read my thoughts as I saw his eyes become harder around the edges as he eyed the doctor who had spoken.

I nodded at the doctor, I was not happy, but for now I would accept his reasoning. Regardless I would keep my eyes on him. My fingers tightened on Carlos' it only registered when I felt his hand tighten in response.

I took a deep breath, as deep as the pain would allow me to take, before asking my additional questions. "So, when do the tests begin? And what tests do you want to do?" I looked at each of the doctors and felt slightly proud of myself for facing this head on instead of burying my head in the sand and wishing it away. Truth be told, there was a part of me that wanted to hide my head and ignore it so it would go away.

I felt the old, familiar nerves about being in a hospital and having doctors fuss over me. I was determined that no matter how much I wanted to beg Carlos to take me home that I would remain in the hospital and do the tests the doctors wanted without fuss. Well, not too much fuss at least. I would face this as my brothers would. If it were one of them, they would face whatever was necessary head on, and I was determined to do the same.

Well, truth be told, they would probably demand a Band-Aid and then go back to their post, but they never skirted anything. They never ignored something because it was difficult or because they did not want to do it. I was determined that I would not skirt this, or ignore it. I would face it as they would. I would be a true Rangeman. Rangeman strong, I thought, and I wanted to smile at my thoughts.

**SpadePOV**

Fuck! I have been getting nowhere fast! Frustration took hold as I scanned what we knew for a second and then third time, looking for the one thing that would lead us another step closer to the person behind Stephanie's attack. I had been busy back tracking the shooter, but it was leading to more questions than answers. What we now knew was nothing other than what we suspected from the beginning. He was a fucking low level thug, a do nothing, know nothing, fucking asshole who would have shot his own fucking mother for twenty bucks or the promise of a high.

The shooter was just the type one would hire to take on a job when they did not want to dirty their own hands. Fucking pieces of chicken shit. They wanted to come after Rangeman, but they wanted to be able to bury their heads back in the sand and disappear when the shit hit the fan.

I could not help but think that they had to have known the shit was going to hit the fan. They knew that they were not going to be successful, but then I realized how successful he had been. He had shot Stephanie. Granted, she did not die, but it was not for the lack of trying on their part. It was solely due to the immediate care she had gotten on the scene and a healthy dose of luck that she was still alive. Not that I ever really fucking believed in luck, until now.

Lester and Slyder saved her life, along with that freaking iPod. What a freak thing to have just put it there because of an after-thought. She had gotten out of the truck and had it in her hand. She could have just as easily dropped in the console, but she did not. For whatever reason, it did not register until she was outside of the car that she still had it. Instead of opening the car, she had partially tucked it under her vest. That single action may have meant the difference between her living or her dying. I shivered at the thought of how close she came.

While it is true that the iPod shattered and splinters broke off and lodged themselves in her lungs and heart, it in fact did slow the bullet, and kept it from doing the damage it would have done had the iPod not been there.

For all those things, I consider her very lucky. I had not had the pleasure of meeting her; however, I had heard plenty about her, some good and, well, some right down bizarre things. One thing is sure, her reputation certainly preceded her and when she visited Las Vegas with her friends, Lula and Connie, I thought Ranger was going to tan all of our fucking hides. Luckily for us, the state had banned him, not that it would have stopped him had something really gone south, but I did consider us lucky that he was not there. Thankfully, nothing went very wrong.

Lula had swept in and jumped on Erik when she thought he was a threat to her. Erik will never live down haven been flattened by Lula. The biggest regret among all of the guys is that no one had gotten a picture. I shook my head, clearing the memories and focusing back on tracking down the asshole responsible for all of this shit.

Ranger did not like that it was taking us so long to track down leads. He wanted the asshole caught yesterday, but we had nothing to go on. Whoever had ordered this hit had done a good job of covering their ass. I knew my lack of progress was going to earn me a session on the mats, but unless something were magically to pop out from what we had gathered, it would just be an ass beating I would have to take.

The worst part was that we were at a standstill when it came to tracking the source for the attack on Stephanie. We had managed to get a name, and from that, we were able to find his address. It was a piece of shit hole in the wall apartment that looked more like accommodations for the local rats rather than a human being. But, then again, considering what he had done, he was a bottom feeder piece of shit who was no better than a rat. None of us were surprised by any of our findings. His fingerprints led us to the name Walter Baxter. Turns out, he had a rather long list of petty arrests. They were mostly shop lifting and petty offenses, but in the last year, his crimes had grown in severity.

Even with the increase in severity, his crimes did not add up to premeditated murder or murder for hire, so I briefly wondered what had lead him to take this job. I wondered if the money offered been that good. Being local, he should have known Rangeman well enough to know we would have exacted our version of revenge; he had to have known we would use him to send a message to anyone else considering an attack on Rangeman. Regardless, he had to have realized that his life as he knew it would be over once he pulled the trigger.

He did not have a bank account, he paid the apartment owner in cash on a weekly basis, and he had no credit rating. He was completely off the grid. That would have been one bonus in why someone would have selected him. Had he not had a criminal record, we would not have found him, at least, not as easily.

I suspect whoever did the hiring did not take the time to check for a police record, though that really did not make a whole lot of sense. We were branching our search out and looking for area family members, but we had not been able to locate any relatives or associates yet.

We also were not able to locate a money trail. One good lead every good detective followed was the money. The money typically tells the story. It is the hardest part to cover, and the easiest to follow. However, in this case, there seemed to be no money. Even the stupidest of criminals would not have taken on this hit without money exchanging hands first. Something was not adding up; we were missing something.

I had checked Stephanie's list of old skips, but there were no matches. It did not appear in all of his run-ins with the law that he had ever been a skip.

We had searched his house looking for the money, looking for connections, looking for any clues, but we came up empty. There were no leads. No connections. No new information.

I had the urge to sweep my desk clean in my frustration. There had to be something we were overlooking. Everything was adding up to appear that he acted alone, but I knew better. My gut told me better, as it did every other Rangeman. As far as we could tell, there was nothing connecting Walter to Stephanie, nor anything connecting him to Rangeman.

Why he would take a shot at her without it being an ordered hit was the question none of us could answer.

Every Rangeman had been working non-stop. We were pulling shifts at the hospital, shifts at Rangeman and tracking down every lead. None of us had taken a day off since her attack. It did not look like there would be a reprieve anytime soon. Ranger would have his own demands once he was able to take his attention off Stephanie.

While I was sitting there staring at the shit on my desk, I heard a cheer throughout the floor. I am not sure what had happened, but the excitement from a room that prior was full of stoic soldiers could only be one of two things: Stephanie was awake, or they had found the sun of a bitch who had caused this complete and total cluster fuck.

I stood up and walked out of the temporary office I had taken up residency in. Walking out into the bigger room, I caught the men high fiving and smiling. I did not have to be told it was Stephanie. I knew by their actions that she was awake. I could see it in their eyes and their faces. The relief, the absence of worry, the persistent pissed off soldiers, it all seemed to be wiped clean in the matter of seconds. Only one thing could have that effect on these men: Stephanie.

I had yet to meet her, but I could not keep the smile from forming just seeing the guys' reaction. I closed the door and headed to the control room. I would fill in for any of the guys who had been waiting weeks to see her.

**RPOV**

Damn, getting a private moment around here is virtually impossible. Ever since the doctors left Stephanie's room, there has been non-stop rotation of men through the room. My men were lining up to see Stephanie. They were desperate to give her a hug, speak to her and spend time with her. They all wanted to see her. I could not fault them for their need to see and talk to her.

I wanted her all to myself, but I also knew they had been through hell waiting for her to wake up. I knew they had prayed and worked around the clock protecting her, covering Rangeman, and tracking down the son of a bitch who attacked one of Rangeman's own.

Just the thought of how much my men loved and cared for my Babe caused my heart to swell with pride and something I was not sure I could even give a name.

I could see her tire, and I knew the guys could too, but I also knew none of them wanted to be the one who did not get to see her. I decided that I had allowed them to parade in and out of the room long enough, so I decided to speak up.

"Hector, I think Stephanie is getting a little tired. Please let anyone else waiting out there know they can come in after she has taken a nap," I stated, and I saw her eyes cut to me. I saw anger flash through them briefly and then settle into a look of acceptance and then love.

Seeing the anger in her eyes told me she thought I was making decisions for her. I had not thought when I said it, but I was surprised she just accepted and even gave me a look of a love because of it. I was not sure of the reasoning behind why she chose not to speak up at my making decisions for her. Part of me was worried this was a change due to the trauma she had been through, part me worried that she was more tired than I knew for her not to fight me on it, and there was even a fucked up part of me that enjoyed the fact that she allowed me to make these decisions. But, I wasn't dumb enough to think this was something I should get use to.

I knew better than to get too comfortable with making the decisions when it came to her life. She had made it known loud and clear that she was perfectly able to make her own decisions, and I had finally gotten to a point where I not only accepted it, but I admired her because of it.

Hector nodded his head, letting me know he had heard me, but never broke his eye contact with my Babe. She had hugged him, kissed his teardrop tattoos, and then rubbed her fingers across them as though she wanted to wipe them away.

I was cataloging every movement, every greeting. For a few of the men, she had her own special version of greeting for them. I was noting everything she did that was the same as prior to her being shot as well as everything that seemed off or different from what she would have done before.

I could not seem to keep myself from analyzing and cataloging everything. I knew she would not be happy if she knew what I was doing, but I was so concerned with after effects that I found it second nature.

I had watched her pull on Bobby's braids, kiss Cal's flaming skull tattoo and run her fingers through Ram's short spiked hair. I could see it in her eyes how excited she was to see her brothers, but I also saw a slight disappointment every time the door opened and she saw whoever it was who walked through. She covered it well and I doubt that anyone noticed except for me, but she was looking for someone specific, and when they did not walk through the door, the disappointment briefly showed itself.

I would catch her eyes go to the door and see the questioning thoughts race across her eyes. She was looking for someone. It was evident. She was looking for Lester.

I felt my hands tighten into fists. I felt anger boil through me to the point that I needed to calm myself down. Lester had yet to come in here and see her. Whatever line of bullshit he had for not coming in to see her was not going to be good enough. The first chance I got, he was going to be meeting me on the mats for an ass beating of a lifetime. He would wish that bullet had hit him a million times more than he already did when I am done with him.

**Let me know what you thought…leave a review!**


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